A Stranger's Kindness
by bohemian-rhapsodi
Summary: Hermione Granger always knew that her life was on hold for Harry's cause, but a gesture of kindness from a mysterious stranger will soon begin to change her mind. AU, HGSS, In response to a 'Daddy Long-Legs' WIKTT challenge. 178 FAVORITES!
1. Dire Straits

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

Well, welcome to my latest story! I had no idea that I'd be writing another one so soon, but it just crept up on me. This should be a 10ish chapter story, and since it's all written in advance, it will definitely be completed!

This is for the WIKKT Daddy Long-Legs Challenge, and although I've only seen one other story that used it, I thought it fit so perfectly! If you haven't read _Daddy Long-Legs_ by Jean Webster, I would highly recommend it.

Oh, and its rated T for a reason- I write romance, not smut! There's a not-so-subtle distinction there.

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own the amazing creation of Harry Potter, so if you're looking for autographs, you should go to JK Rowling... I merely tinker with her characters.

**CHAPTER 1: DIRE STRAITS**

Hermione stared out at the grounds of Hogwarts from her favourite haunt; a room off the Owlery that looked down upon the moors from a dizzying height and caught the first rays of morning sunlight in its stony grasp. It was her preferred place to think, to reflect, or just to forget. She had so much to forget in these cursed days.

She took a deep breath, collecting her wits again as she prepared herself for the day ahead. It wasn't going to be an easy one, by any standards; what she had planned both scared and saddened her, but it had to be done. Brushing off her robes with one quick hand, she made her way down the slippery spiral stairs, heading for the Great Hall and a noisy, Gryffindor breakfast.

**

**

As Hermione sat silent in front of Headmaster Dumbledore, she reminded herself of how much this meant to her. She needed a solution, and fast; _why_ couldn't her mind come up with the solution? It was truly frustrating, and a position that she had never expected herself to be in.

"It's getting dire, sir. I'm... not sure if I'll be able to make next year's fees." She tried to meet his kind, sparkling eyes, but her gaze stayed resolutely on her own hands, twisting a bunch of robes in her lap.

"Is there truly no way of contacting your parents?" He asked gently.

"No... I don't even know where they are. I don't know who their Secret Keeper is! Wherever they are, it's safer if I don't contact them in any case." She felt a familiar pain at her parent's absence, but she knew it was for the best. It was too dangerous for them in these trying times.

"Quite true, my dear... well, I'm sorry to tell you that we really have no provision for this kind of situation; even when we receive orphans, they have contacts willing to cover a majority of the fees, and the Ministry covers the rest."

Hermione nodded. "I can't ask the Weasley's; and until Harry's account is cleared from that horrid Ministry inquiry, I can't rely on him either."

He peered at her over the rims of his glasses. "I can speak for myself and Professor McGonagall when I say that we cannot either; all of our remaining funds have been utilised by the Order."

"I thought it would be something like that." Hermione admitted without a due animosity. If only there was a way... but she had been racking her brains for easily a month ever since she had seen the level of her Gringotts account, and she was almost out of options.

"We'll keep trying, Hermione." He said in his grandfatherly way. "Have faith."

**

**

Hermione stared at the canopy of her four-poster in a position that usually meant she was brooding; in this case, she was so worked up that tears came to her eyes.

What if she had to leave Hogwarts? She had barely enough money to scrape together for textbooks, outings, clothes, essentials. Was she really naive enough to believe that she could find someone to pity her, bring her out of her near-poverty? The sad truth came to her- she had no one to rely completely on. Molly Weasley was a fair surrogate mother in many respects; Dumbledore was a grandfather, McGonagall was possibly a great-aunt; the Order members were distant cousins. Harry and Ron were brothers, Ginny was a sister; but they were just kids, really, the same as her. No support could be found there.

She had no true family.

She was alone.

She reluctantly decided to join everyone in the Common Room for their post-Quidditch victory party, knowing that her absence would most certainly be noted. She needed the distraction anyway; maybe she wouldn't drown her sorrows in the doctored Butterbeer, but she could certainly forget them fleetingly in the light and comfort of friends.

As she had predicted, many of the senior Gryffindor's were well into their celebrations- mostly involving a variation upon Truth or Dare and copious amount of Butterbeer. Rolling her eyes, she made her way to Ron and Harry, again resolving to hide away her worries.

**

**

"It's a shame, Albus." Minerva McGonagall sighed into her coffee. They were the only ones left in the Staff Room, the meeting disbanded minutes ago. "One of the brightest pupils I've ever had the pleasure to teach; and Head Girl, of all people!"

"I know, Minerva, but consider- most Wizards are unwilling to perform acts of charity as is expected of Muggles, and even less inclined to help a Mubbleborn, even one so talented as Miss Granger. This may well be her fate."

"Another victim of this war." The Transfiguration teacher said bitterly. "Too many, too many."

Neither of them noticed the soft rusting of robes outside the Staff Room door as the dark man made his exit.

**

**

As much as Snape was reluctant to agree with the sentimental old fool, it would indeed be a shame for Hermione Granger to not complete her formal education. He'd already deposited twenty Galleons on a NEWTs clean sweep, for heaven's sake; she couldn't back out now! Scowling, he flung his robes into a chair in the corner of his private chambers, thinking deeply.

His House bias did not extend as far as many believed; he was grudgingly willing to accept that Granger was a brilliant witch, even if he would never admit it to her face. Anyone who sought public recognition was a fool, so in turn he never outwardly complimented a student. He did, however, silently applaud those he thought exemplary- Granger being one of them. She had moved well beyond her old habit of regurgitating textbook lore; she had initiative and, heaven forbid, a certain amount of imagination. She would go well in any career she chose.

This was all secondary, of course, if she had no formal qualification. _Shame._

He assumed that they had exhausted all possible options for Granger; he'd never heard Dumbledore give up on a student before it was necessary- he was living proof of the man's stubbornness in that department.

There was one that he was almost certain Dumbledore had _not_, however, explored.

A slight smirk came to his face.

This was going to be _interesting_.

**

**

Sunday morning, and the Common Room looked like a casualty centre. Hermione had risen bright and early from her private room in the Tower to go to breakfast, and tutted in her usual way at the usual mess they had made after the long night and morning. Ron was snoring, head pillowed on a keg of Butterbeer; Neville was inexplicably half inside the fireplace. She chuckled, wishing that Wizarding cameras didn't make so much noise or smoke- this would be a priceless moment to document.

Slowly, the groaning Gryffindors came to consciousness, and many went downstairs to consume their hangover remedies. As soon as Ron saw Hermione tapping her foot and with her we-are-not-amused expression on her face, he rasped out, "Spare me the lecture, I think I've ruptured my brain."

She rolled her eyes, instead reminding him (in a voice that was still too loud to his sensitive ears) that breakfast would be finishing in half an hour, so he'd better get moving.

She noticed an owl pecking at the glass of the Tower window; curious, she opened it to let in the dignified barn owl and its letter. To her surprise, it was for her, and judging by the swirling script, from Dumbledore.

_Miss Granger,_

_Good news! An anonymous benefactor has agreed to pay the remainder of your tuition, as well as a substantial living allowance. Come to my office at 10 o'clock today to discuss the details._

_Hoping that you are well,_

_Dumbledore._

Harry and Ginny were jerked into sobriety by a squeal of joy from Hermione as she finished the letter.

"What's that?" Harry asked quickly, trying to sound casual as he untangled his limbs from the couch and the red head simultaneously.

She grinned at him, a sparkle coming back to her tired brown eyes.

"A gift."

**

**

It sounded too good to be true; a mysterious witch or wizard, willing to part with a rather large amount of gold for a girl they hardly knew? As Dumbledore explained, there were only a few conditions; none of the money was to be lent, gambled or spent frivolously; she was never to try and discover the identity of the witch/wizard; she was to apply herself to her studies (no problem there); and she was to send the person _at least_ weekly updates on her education.

"Isn't that last one a bit... strange?" She said incredulously. "I mean, would they really care?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I'd take it as an eccentricity, Hermione. Perhaps they have little communication with others and wish only for the companionship and the stories of youth."

"It sounds like an elderly recluse, when you put it that way." She laughed. "I'd be willing to put up with a lot more for this, so I agree to these conditions unreservedly."

"One more thing, Hermione." He said softly. "This kind of arrangement may create an obligation, if you will, between you and your financier. Not necessarily an exclusively binding one, but a contract that may have some effect on you."

Hermione nodded, considering it seriously for a moment. "Does this compromise the war in any way? I mean, could this person turn me against Harry or the Order in some way?"

"It's a weak bond, by magical standards... so no Hermione, I would safely say that you could not be forced into anything of the sort."

"In that case, go ahead!" She said brightly.

"Excellent! The only contact I have is a Post Office Box and the name of the owl... 'Jupitus', I believe."

The bird blinked at him from his perch on the arm of a chair, hearing his name.

"A noble name." Hermione murmured as Dumbledore finished his letter with a flourish and attached it to the owl's leg. They both watched it disappear into the distance, lost in their own thoughts.

**

**

Later, she sat on her bed with the Journal in her lap. She's never kept a diary before, or even sustained correspondence with many people in her past. The red leather cover was rough to the touch, but the parchment pages inside it were creamy and smooth. It was the kind of journal she would have bought one day, if only to admire then write in it twice. With a flick of her quill, she began.

_To Sir,_

She frowned. Was this really how it was going to be? A formal title, an impersonal prefix? She could come up with something better, surely... a moment later, she had it.

_This is a loathsome identity to write to! I hope you don't mind; I've come up with a better name for you, my mysterious benefactor. I noticed your owl, Jupitus, owed his name to the Greek Gods. Whether this was intentional or not, I shall never know, having no response from you; but I have seen fit to label you with something similar from my own childhood knowledge of mythology._

_So, I name thee Hyperion, Greek God of Watchfulness and Wisdom. I see it as extremely fitting; you are almost watching over me like a guardian angel (or a voyeur; I haven't really decided yet), and you have the fortitude of mind to realise how important this year is to me, to my future and integrity as a witch. I know not to whom I am indebted, but you must allow me to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for this deed._

Hermione read over this critically, deciding wryly that she couldn't really erase anything from the book anyway; it would instantly appear on its partner journal.

_Now, I move onto the more mundane of subjects; my academic pursuits. Please feel free to skip this if I become long winded in any particular area, I tend to get carried away. At least, that's what my best friends Harry and Ron say. I say the same about Quidditch- but I digress._

Hermione wrote more on her subjects, what she liked and disliked; some general comments on her disposition and hobbies, but not too much. She needed to keep reminding herself that someone would be reading it, and it wasn't just an exercise in self-expression.

_...and I have a particular love for a good mud cake, with plenty of sugar content (at the express displeasure of my dentist parents). In conclusion of my first letter, I finish with a riddle I've been taunting the boys with. It's cruel, to be sure, but who said that Gryffindor's were always nice to each other?_

_What has:_

_Woods with no trees_

_Rivers with no water_

_And cities without buildings?_

_The answer, Hyperion, is forthcoming (unless, in your infinite divine wisdom, you solve it yourself.)_

_Yours,_

_Hermione Granger._

**

**

Snape put away the Dictoquill with a sigh, relieved that Dumbledore and Hermione had accepted his offer. Of course the headmaster would have considered this offer to be a Death Eater stunt of some kind, or at least one from an unfriendly wizard; but the implications were minute if they were truly careful.

Hours later he was amused to see his green partner journal quivering silently, a sign that Hermione was already writing. He snorted; she was obviously quick to obey his instructions.

He read of his new name with some interest and a raised eyebrow- Hyperion? Really, Granger? He was no god, by any standard of a deity.

Nevertheless, he found the remainder of the letter at times amusing and thoughtful. She had some interesting comments about Hogwarts and her classes, and not a few amusing anecdotes about member of staff. Nothing about himself, thank Merlin.

The inclusion of her Gryffindor friends brought up an intriguing point, however; this was an ideal opportunity to see Potter's mind at work. If he was being particularly emotional or irrational, Granger would most likely comment upon it. It could be an indicator of plans brewing, events beyond Dumbledore's control taking place. If Granger was truly diligent, he could glean much from its contents.

It took his quick mind a minute or so to figure out the riddle. _A map. Clever, Granger._

He allowed himself to dwell on the entry and its writer for a moment, and then returned to his work.

**A/N:** Chapter 1 is done! More is about to happen, I promise, so have some faith :)


	2. Beset On All Sides

**A/N: A quick reminder that reviews are always read, appreciated and (when you have a question) replied to!**

**CHAPTER 2: BESET ON ALL SIDES**

**

**

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley. The consistency of this potion is atrocious. Perhaps, boy, you would be better suited to the less precise art of Divination."

Ron gritted his teeth, but held his tongue with a self-control which surprised Hermione. Maybe he was finally growing out of most of his impulsiveness. In any case, it was a better potion than Ron had made in quite a while; it didn't quite deserve that cutting comment from Professor Snape.

On top of that, Madam Hooch had taken a substantial batch of House Points from Gryffindor for an event that was entirely the fault of a few unruly Ravenclaws, too quick to be caught up in the scandal. Hermione needed to calm down a few teary first-years after _that_ incident.

The entry that night was more acidic than usual.

_I will never understand why House rivalry is so integral to a Hogwarts education; if you, Hyperion, have attended Hogwarts, you would know the level of connivance and suspicion that surrounds inter-House relations. I am by no means a truly loyal Gryffindor, in that I respect the qualities of each House for their own sakes. I would never mention this, of course; if Harry or Ron even got so much as an inking that I supported Slytherin cunning and reservedness they would curse me six ways to Sunday._

_On the note of Slytherins, I don't believe that I will ever figure out Professor Snape. His motives are convoluted, his methods both logical and questionable; as much as I understand the importance of discipline around volatile Potions, perhaps unconditional punishment is not the best way to force attention. In any case, Professor Snape's strange teaching style (and personal character) will continue to puzzle me._

Hermione wrote in the diary every few days, despite the letter's request of once a week. She found it strangely soothing; she could see how Ginny could have been enticed into writing in Riddle's diary, just for comfort and clarity. She organised her thoughts, placed priorities on her worries, and was careful to communicate only a fraction of this to Hyperion. As time went by, at first weeks, then months, she found herself looking forward to relating events in her entries; _I can tell him this later,_ or _I'm sure that's noteworthy_. There was the occasional twinge of doubt, but mostly positive thoughts about the situation.

She was pleased to find out that she had enough money to go to Hogsmeade for the first time that year, gratefully leaving behind the textbooks that had words swimming before her eyes and replacing it for the picturesque town.

However, the morning of their trip...

"Zonko's has been attacked!"

It went over the school like wildfire; three men in black had descended on the small hamlet during the night, dragging out the unfortunate shopkeeper and his apprentice and cursing them to near death. Only the timely arrival of some Aurors and the quick work of St Mungo's mediwizards prevented the fatality. The Hufflepuffs in particular were shaken by the news, both men having come from their House.

Predictably, the weekend excursion was called off. No one dared to complain.

Harry, Ron and most of the Gryffindors were still determined to escape their homework, however; they decided to go exploring the lakeside, where the giant squid sometimes left interesting presents of pitted goblets and moss covered trinkets from some long-forgotten shipwreck on the lakebed. Hermione joined them for lack of a better offer; it was surprisingly chilly out in the driving wind, and she hadn't the opportunity to buy her winter clothes yet.

As a consequence, she was soon sniffling pitifully in front of the fire with a roaring temperature and a headache to rival all others. She was reluctantly shifted to the Hospital Wing, where Madame Pomfrey berated her soundly, gave her some sulphurous potion, and insisted that she stay the night.

**

Hermione awoke in the morning feeling better; she tentatively shook her head and felt only a slight twinge of discomfort. Satisfied, she shifted into a sitting position.

She suddenly noticed a package on the end of her bed, wrapped in plain white cloth and bearing a scrap of parchment which merely said in the flowing script of a Dictoquill:

_To prevent further incident._

Heart thudding, she opened the package with tender care. It was a set of robes, similar to her school ones; but she could instantly see that it was of a sturdier material, and most likely had several protective charms interwoven in the cloth.

Touched by the gesture, Hermione closed the package with an absent movement, wondering once again who Hyperion could possibly be- and how they knew she had a cold.

**

Ginny was one of the only people Hermione had allowed to enter her private Head Girl room without an invitation through her wards, but it still exasperated Hermione that she refused to knock in any case.

"Hey there, Hermione!" The red-headed blur came and sat on the end of the window seat on which Hermione was crouched. "Are you _still_ studying?"

"Not quite." She said, tracing a finger lightly over her entry in the Journal. "I'm writing a letter."

"Inside a book?" Ginny said incredulously, before Hermione could realise her mistake. "To whom?"

"Never mind." Hermione said quickly, searching her mind for a change of subject.

"Uh-uh, Hermione Granger- what's going on?" She was quick to ask. "Who're you writing to?"

Hermione relented. "It's not really a letter, then. It's... hard to explain."

Ginny's face fell, a sudden seriously coming over her face. "Hermione, is that an enchanted diary?"

"Ginny! No, nothing like that!" She gasped, afraid that she would try to take it away. "It had a partner journal, so I can write to them instantly."

"That's what I would call 'enchanted'." Ginny said softly. "Who has the other one?"

Hermione was lost for words.

"Hermione, who has the other one?"

Hermione took a deep breath, knowing now that she had to explain everything to Ginny before she went digging elsewhere. She was the only one that knew about her parent's removal, the only one that she felt she could trust. "I'm not sure, really..."

"You're _not sure_?!" Ginny gasped, horrified. "What-"

"Hear me out! It's a strange story... I discovered recently that I... couldn't afford to attend Hogwarts anymore; after my parents left, and with no one else... well, I was in dire straits. I went to Dumbledore for anything I could get, but it wasn't looking hopeful."

"Oh, Hermione..." The pitied sigh came from Ginny.

"Let me finish, please... I need to tell you." She continued quickly. "At the last moment, a letter came from some wizard or witch who was willing to pay my tuition, and more. One of their only requests was that I write to them of my progress. Hence the book."

"That's insane, Hermione- it could be anyone!"

"I try not to give anything away." Hermione assured her. "I have to admit, though, I _have_ gotten carried away; I write almost every day now, even if nothing noteworthy happens... its like-"

"-like you have a friend that doesn't judge you." Ginny said bitterly. "I know the feeling... sometimes, I wish... only fleetingly... that Riddle would still be there for me."

Instead of feeling horror, Hermione was surprised to find that she related to that. Hermione thought back over the last few months, and how long she'd been writing to Hyperion; it wasn't about the money Hyperion was giving her anymore; it was about the companionship, the presence of a person who couldn't reply and she could confide in.

It was almost scary how much she _had_ confided in them.

**

"Harry! Did you hear?" Ron gasped out, as he came screeching through the portrait hole and into their common room. "The Board of Governors are here- all of them!"

"What?" Harry frowned. "They're never here in term time..."

"They're checking the wards, I reckon... and getting a better look at Dumbledore in the process." Hermione reasoned, looking up from her Arithmancy homework. "After the attack in Hogsmeade and the others in the _Prophet_, they're not taking and chances. And they still don't trust Dumbledore completely."

"Idiots." Ron declared bitterly. "They all follow Malfoy out of fear; I don't think they even care about the students..."

"In any case, Ron, there's not much we can do _if_ they decide to take action." Harry said. "They have the power; they can remove Dumbledore, shut down the school... anything. I mean, it could be like Umbridge all over again!"

"We're getting ahead of ourselves here." Hermione said quickly. "Who can really say what's going on? If they're even _going_ to intervene? I'm sure that Dumbledore, at least, will stand on our side."

That day, there was a palpable tension in the air. Teachers were on edge; House friction flared up, especially against Slytherin and, in particular, the house of Malfoy.

Draco himself was filled with a smug satisfaction that his father was in control of everyone, student and staff, at Hogwarts. He was, if at all possible, more aggravating and proud than ever before; he positively strutted around the halls, declaring loudly that _my father will clean up this school once and for all_. It was sign of the collective student body's considerable restraint that Draco Malfoy wasn't jinxed within an inch of his life.

The Gryffindor Common Room was subdued that night; eventually, like many others, Hermione couldn't stand the sombre mood and made her way up her staircase. She had a long shower which helped her think, submerged under the stream for longer than necessary to soak away her worries. At least, that was the theory; she didn't feel less stressed when she sat on her bed to write to Hyperion.

A few stands of wet hair swung over the page, a few scented drops of water hitting the parchment and disappearing quickly. She quickly pulled it back, blushing at the thought that Hyperion might have been able to see it.

She thought deeply before writing her next entry.

_Hyperion,_

_This is one of the times that I hope you're a friend to Harry and his cause. So much pain has been caused, and this time, it's so close to home. Even the Governors are putting their two XcentsX Knuts worth in. I shudder to think of the iron hand of Malfoy and his companions swiftly crushing the integrity of Hogwarts- but I must remain optimistic. They are not all bad, surely; a few decisions in the past have been unwise, but maybe in this matter they may be swayed to good. Then again, if the Ministry is any indication of how they would act in a crisis, I fear the worst._

She heard a muffled thumping noise from downstairs; she frowned, shrugged it off, and kept writing.

_On a slightly lighter academic note, I've been-_

This time, she heard the unmistakable sound of smashing glass. Still holding the diary, she ran on light feet over to the door and pried it open a sliver. She had only glanced around the frame when saw a few hooded figures in the common room, an unconscious student lying on the floor. They were obviously looking around for which staircase led them to their objective... Hermione could take an educated guess as to their target.

Harry!

Shutting the door silently, she retrieved her wand quickly, head swimming with possible strategies. She only remembered the journal when she saw it in her trembling hand.

The idea caught hold quickly, just as she heard some hurried footsteps and swishing of a cloak- coming up _her_ stairs.

_They're attacking Gryff. Tower- for Harry? Get help now-_

The explosion knocked her off her feet as they rammed through her wards, her door also flying through the air in razor sharp splinters; she felt them pepper her face and neck, and she cried out in the sudden, hot pain. Shoving it down, she turned to face her attackers and began the duel. The doorway wasn't large enough to fit more than one at once, so she quickly Disarmed and Stunned the first hooded person, then the second one; the third was ready for her onslaught, and sent a Slicing Hex her way before her shield could protect her. It cut deep into her leg as she dived out of the way, her head banging painfully on her desk as she rolled behind it. _Come on! Hyperion, Dumbledore, ANYONE!_

The last thing she remembered before the strange blue Hex hit her torso was seeing the journal, spattered with her blood, lying crushed under the attacker's foot.

**

Snape was rather enjoying his evening; it wasn't often that he had finished the mundane details of Professorship in time to have a moment to himself, and he relished them when the chances came. The thing was, he had almost forgotten how to amuse himself.

Putting aside the rather dense and repetitive scroll he had been studying, his eyes fell upon the enchanted diary.

_What have you got to say today, Granger...? I wonder._

He flicked to the right page- and knew immediately that something was wrong. His eyes caught the last, hastily scribbled sentence- _for Harry? Get help now-_ before a drop of inky-red liquid appeared on the page; then another, then a spreading stain of blood...

He didn't wait to see any more. Leaping out of his chair, he grabbed some Floo and spun into the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was sitting calmly besides Fawkes, stroking the renewed plumage of his phoenix. "Severus, my boy, what brings-"

"They're here for Potter!" Snape snapped. "In the Tower!"

Dumbledore moved faster than Snape had ever thought him capable of; within a second, they were on the defensive as they appeared in the Gryffindor Common Room grate, and Dumbledore had already alarmed the rest of the school.

Snape spared a flicker of a glance at the boy lying on the ground before sprinting up what he knew to be the Head Girl quarters, as Dumbledore did the same to the boy's dormitories, praying that he wasn't too late...

He scanned the room, noting the two enemies down and one still standing... "_Stupefy!_" He threw the curse at the dark figure standing over the prone body of Granger. It crumpled to the ground with a faint cry of alarm, and then was still. He bound the man securely before checking that the others were really unconscious.

Dumbledore appeared behind him. "Were there any more?" Snape managed to gasp at him. "Did they..."

"It looks like they came here first, not knowing what room was his." Albus said sharply. "It seems there are no more, but the grounds are being searched as we speak."

Snape breathed a sigh of relief, worry returning when he moved over to Granger. Her face was peppered with wood splinters, and her robes below the knee were sticky with warm blood. More worryingly, her face was deathly pale and her pulse was weak under his searching fingertips. Leaning in closer and performing some diagnostic charms, he discovered that her lungs were starting to collapse... he recognised that curse.

"Damnit." He hissed. He used the best he could muster to at least get her breathing again, conscious of his own ragged breath as he worked. Eventually, after a few experimental spells and combinations, her chest rose and fell of its own accord. He didn't quite breathe a sigh of relief, but it was a near thing.

He shifted her onto a Conjured stretcher as McGonagall came rushing into the room, the lioness rushing to protect her cubs. To his secret disgust, Malfoy and a few Governors followed behind, looking decidedly ruffled.

"What has happened here, Albus?" One asked in his tremulous voice.

"As you can see," He began patiently, "There has been an attack on our Gryffindor Tower."

"By whom?" Malfoy asked in a semi-bored tone.

Dumbledore uncovered one of the attacker's faces; his pale, slack features weren't familiar to Snape, Dumbledore or the staff. The next two brought the same result; they didn't even have Dark Marks.

"Interesting..."

"Puzzling..."

"Secondary." McGonagall snapped. "If you don't mind, Miss Granger has to get to the Infirmary!" The multitudes of wizards were blocking the exit; soon the tower room was cleared of all conscious and unconscious (bound and wand-less) people except Dumbledore and Snape.

"How were you the first to be alerted to the attack, Severus?" The inevitable query came.

Snape winced internally. "I never reveal my sources, Albus; you know that." He turned to leave swiftly, reasoning that he could avoid the probing questions in the crowd of babbling staff members.

"Well, now..." Dumbledore's exclamation came from behind him. Snape turned to see the old man kneeling on the ground, one finger hovering over the blood spattered journal.

_Dammit. Meddlesome old fool..._

The bright blue eyes flew up to study Snape's dark ones; there was a vestige of surprise in Dumbledore's expression, but more of a glint of satisfaction at solving a particularly annoying or troublesome riddle.

"Well done, my boy." He chuckled, returning fully to his feet. "Although, I must say, not particularly unexpected." With a final grin, the Headmaster left Snape alone in the room.

The Potions master looked around the ruined chamber once more, his eyes lingering on the more personal touches and comparing what they appeared to be to what Granger had revealed in her letters to Hyperion. It was remarkable, really, that she could appear as a normal, if overworked, teenage witch, but have such a deep and varied personality in writing. He felt strangely privileged to have heard her thoughts, and felt a sudden hunger to learn more.

He left the room before this compulsion could be acted upon.

**

**


	3. Honour and Logic

**A/N: Thankyou all for your reviews- they really do help me become a better writer!**

**Onwards and upwards, I guess!**

*****

**CHAPTER 3: HONOUR AND LOGIC **

**

**

Hermione awoke to a pounding headache and a tender torso, feeling as though she had been stampeded by a flock of Hippogriffs. She came to consciousness slowly, opening her eyes blearily to see the worried expressions of her friends.

"Hermione! You're alright!" Ron gasped, thumping the bed with one fist in excitement; it jiggled her leg which twinged at the movement, but she gritted her teeth into a smile.

"We were worried about you." Harry agreed solemnly. Hermione realised that he would probably blame himself for this attack, as he was the likely target. "You were injured pretty badly, but you fought 'em off somehow."

"That's our Hermione." Ron said proudly. "Never backs down."

"But seriously, Hermione... who were they?" Harry said softly, making sure that Pomfrey didn't hear.

"I didn't recognise them..."

"One thing's for sure- Malfoy must have had something to do with it. I mean, what are the odds? An attack just after he interfered here?" Ron said with conviction. "Of course, he would deny everything, and he's too clever to leave any evidence. I can imagine his smirk now." He gritted his teeth in suppressed anger.

"They're leaving today... I imagine that Malfoy's 'master' isn't going to be happy with the way it turned out."

Hermione shivered, trying to ward away the images that came to her. He was going to be tortured because of her bravery.

_When would the pain and suffering stop?_

She tolerated their debate for a while before it began to overwhelm her raw senses; Madame Pomfrey ejected them soon afterwards, telling Hermione that she needed to get some Potions into her.

"They're coming now... ah, Professor!" The matronly woman strode towards the entrance of the Hospital Wing, which was hidden from Hermione's view by a curtain. Even with the cloth in between them, Hermione could guess their identity.

"It's done, Poppy... but I should check the patient for other complications first." The familiar intonation of Snape floated through the Wing; Hermione sat up slightly in her bed, not wanting to appear overly weak or submissive. Snape always brought out the worst in her pride.

He raised an eyebrow at her as he appeared from behind the curtain. "You're looking much improved- only moderately battered." He said bluntly. "What can you remember?"

She blinked. Why was he asking her questions? Shouldn't Dumbledore... shrugging internally, she decided to answer him the best she could. "I heard them knock out the boy downstairs. They came up my stairs first, perhaps working systematically, which suggests that they had no knowledge of the layout of the Tower. I erected some wards which they soon forced their way through..." She frowned, the pain of the event making the rest hazy. "Then... I remember taking two of them down, then hurting my leg and feeling as though there was a weight on my chest. And... nothing."

He nodded curtly, looking pensive. "The curse collapsed your lungs, Miss Granger. You're lucky that the Headmaster and the staff reached you in time. How exactly did you alert the staff to the attack?"

She swallowed; what could she tell him- that she told a complete stranger, only to be saved mere minutes after in a strange manner? She now assumed that Hyperion was either in Hogwarts or had very close ties to someone inside it.

A new voice joined the conversation before Hermione could reply. "This girl is handy with a Patronus in a tight spot, Severus." Dumbledore's bright tones floated towards them. There was a flicker of annoyance in the Potion Master's eyes before he returned to his habitual blank expression.

Hermione noticed that he hadn't exactly answered the question; he just offered a likely explanation, thereby taking burden off her shoulders. _So careful not to lie..._

"How are you feeling, my dear?" He smiled down at her.

"Better, thankyou sir."

"No, don't thank me; it was Severus here that identified and countered the curse."

She went pink; had he been in her rooms? Had _half the school_ been in her rooms?

"You say 'countered', Headmaster, as if it was that easy." Snape said darkly. "This Curse can have infrequent relapses, shortness of breath and intermittent dizzy spells, which can be triggered by a number of factors. Only regular doses of the relevant Potion can hold off the worst of the symptoms."

Hermione paled, but nodded. "I'll just have to live with that, then." She said shortly. "It was worth it."

Dumbledore beamed at her. Snape looked as though he would snarl at her about Gryffindor stupidity and a misplaced sense of loyalty, but he only glanced at her sourly before returning to the job at hand. He poured out a small portion of the vial he was holding into the Goblet beside her, mixing in some water as he went. "A concentration of four drops to one glass, Miss Granger. Any more can be harmful."

"May I ask what's in the Potion?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

He answered without hesitation, breaking down the various ingredients and properties and how they related to each other. He asked a few question as well, and she answered to the best of her knowledge what effect each combination should have. She was surprised at how easily her mind leapt from the stored knowledge into new applications; maybe she could go beyond 'books and cleverness'...

Not in Snape's eyes, certainly.

He left the vial next to her, once again reiterating the seriousness of taking the Potion regularly. She resolved not to forget, and he seemed satisfied.

"Thankyou, Severus." Dumbledore said in dismissal. He bowed slightly to Hermione, surprising her greatly, before leaving with a swish of his cape and the clack of his boots.

"An honourable man, that." Dumbledore murmured. Hermione didn't know what to say to that, but he continued before she had to. "Now, Miss Granger, about the journal..."

"I've been thinking about that." She confessed. "It has to be someone either _inside_ Hogwarts, or one intimately _connected_ with someone..." A thought struck her, one so terrifying that she was rendered speechless. Rich... connected... in Hogwarts... manipulative... opportunistic...

_Malfoy._

Dumbledore registered her shocked face with concern. "Miss Granger?"

"Headmaster, can it... is it possible that Lucius Malfoy is..."

His face fell, and he was quick to placate her. "Good Merlin, no! Although I applaud your logic, Miss Granger, that is quite impossible."

"Why can't he be Hyperion?"

"Hyperion?" Dumbledore frowned.

"Erm- my financier. I... gave them a name, for convenience." She went red.

He chuckled. "Very appropriate, very ancient... I know he can't be, my dear, because 'Hyperion' has revealed himself to me."

Hermione stared at him in sudden shock. "How? Since _when_?"

"Rest assured, my dear, you are in no danger from this correspondent. You can tell him most things, things about the war or about the school. He didn't intend to be caught out, but I do have quite a reputation for sticking my nose in other people's affairs..."

"He." Hermione breathed. "I still wasn't sure. Thanks for the clue."

"You won't be getting any more from me, my girl. You must use your own considerable wits to discover him... he wouldn't have it any other way."

"But he doesn't want me to try. He said so."

Dumbledore patted her hand in a grandfatherly way. "I know what he _said_, but I believe it's perfectly safe to assume nothing adverse would eventuate from your meeting. He may even welcome it, in time."

**

**

Hermione was greeting with more enthusiasm than she had experienced in all her time at Hogwarts, even more than after she was Petrified in Second Year. All the school seemed to know that she had almost single-handedly fended off a group of wizards trying to kill (they supposed) Harry Potter, their Golden Boy. She bore it with humility, and it eventually got on her nerves when all she wished to do was return to a semblance of normalcy. She resolved that she didn't want to be famous in any sense of the word.

Her wish was granted after a few days, and she sank back into her normal routine with relief. Dumbledore kept the trio up with all the latest news from the Ministry in their interrogations of the three men that were captured; apparently they _were_ Death Eaters, which raised more problems- they didn't have the Dark Mark, which meant that anyone else could be in You Know Who's side and they wouldn't know. They were some kind of sub-group, designed for spying and stealth. But even secret Death Eaters supporters would talk under Veritserum.

Harry often went quiet during their many and varied discussions, and Hermione knew that he was contemplating it all; the future. His role in that future, what he may have to do... it weighed heavily on all of them, but Harry most of all.

The gloom that was beginning to settle over Hogwarts thickened when attacks resumed against communities around the country. Only a few families were affected so far, but it was enough that tension grew daily.

It was on a particularly gloomy day, in which the Morning Post brought news of a Hufflepuff boy's parents' death, that Hermione received a strange missive.

_Miss Granger,_

_You have been recommended by your Potions Professor to assist in the brewing of basic medical Potions for the Infirmary. Please attend my office directly after the morning meal to discuss your participation._

_Regards,_

_Madame Poppy Pomfrey_

Ron, who had been reading over her shoulder, almost choked on his cereal. "_Snape_ recommended you? More likely he was pressured into it."

Harry joined in. "He wouldn't uphold House loyalty here, Ron. He knows that our Hermione can outbrew any of his lot, or at least he _should_ know that."

Hermione said nothing, letting them battle it out. She was mildly flattered, but at the same time, apprehensive. She hoped that she would go well... would she be brewing with Pomfrey or Snape?

Her question was answered when she entered Madame Pomfrey's office a few minutes later, the small room filled with medical paraphernalia and a large beaten looking desk.

"Good morning, dear." The amiable witch beamed at her. "Let's cut to the chase- are you willing to accept this position?"

She blinked; she hadn't even thought of refusing. "Of course, Madam Pomfrey! Anything to help you out."

"Excellent! Although, technically speaking, you won't be helping _me_ out; you'll be assisting Professor Snape for most of the brewing process. I can do the basics, but a proper Potions Master always produces the best results. We're lucky in that way."

Hermione tried not to look too nervous about working with Professor Snape; how bad could it be, really? "When will I have to assist the Professor?"

"You'll have to talk with him about that, I'm afraid; I believe he hasn't got a class now..." She rummaged about in the drawer of her desk for a minute, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. "I'll just see what we're running low on; I'll be back in a moment..."

Hermione accepted the list with a steady hand, and made her way down into the dungeons where she knew Snape's office was. She couldn't deny even to herself that she was extremely nervous with the idea of spending more time with the strange and closed man; it was with a certain trepidation that she knocked on the blackened wood of his office door.

"Enter." He ordered curtly.

She did so, glancing around the room to get her bearings. It was rather empty; no slimy things in jars, very little storage. She assumed that he had more chambers as well, but she couldn't see a door. The man himself was sitting at his writing desk with a stack of parchment beside him; Hermione recognised them as essays.

He looked up at her, face impassive as he marked another paper and tossed it aside. "Ah, Miss Granger... I assume Madame Pomfrey has briefed you."

"To a degree... what will be expected for this task, Professor?" She was proud to hear that her voice was even.

"I find that many hands make light work, Miss Granger. So, in the interest of Hogwarts and its accident prone student body, you will be brewing the basic tonics. Every Wednesday and Friday night at eight, with perhaps more in troubled times. Does that suit you?" He didn't look up as he asked, and Hermione felt slightly less intimidated when his eyes weren't on her.

"It does." She said simply.

A moment passed, and he looked up at her. Their eyes met momentarily, and he raised an eyebrow. "No more questions, Granger? I find myself lost for words at the prospect."

She didn't rise to the bait. "I will see you tomorrow night, then."

"Indeed. Good day, Miss Granger."

**

**

_Hyperion,_

_It may seem strange, but now that I'm over the initial fear of Professor Snape (if I could call it 'fear'; I think it was more of an inferiority thing) I'm actually enjoying my time in those chilly dungeons. I'm not going to convert to Slytherin any time soon, but it's actually a pleasant way to spend an evening; the process itself is soothing and focussed, and I find myself disappointed as each Potion is bottled and labelled by his careful hand. I guess I'm becoming addicted to Potions making, in a way. Sometimes I even make them in my sleep._

_And I don't even mind that he doesn't treat me any better; I would certainly be surprised if he showed any inclination to recognise me in class all of a sudden. Now that I think on it, it's not his behaviour that has changed- it's my perception of it. When he's acidic, it's usually for a good reason. When he's sarcastic, I often realise that he was entitled to that opinion, especially if it's because I've said something particularly illogical. It's become a working relationship, as much as I loathe the word; Madame Pomfrey's almost run out of Potions she needs brewed._

_On a different note, I'm still worried about Harry. I'm not sure how much I've told you, or how much I should, but he's been particularly reticent and restless lately. I'll endeavour to keep a closer eye on him._

**

**

_Hyperion,_

_I'm lucky that I could even write this; my arms ache and my fingers are trembling from the exertion of Potions making. I'm pretty sure that this one wasn't for the Infirmary, but I keep my silence. Snape seemed particularly moody today, and I'm sure that it's why he was absent from meals yesterday... but, once again, I keep my silence. That's what I will have to do in the future, with the war and my career._

_I haven't told you, have I? I have finally chosen a career path. It wasn't my first choice for many years, but all this hands on experience has really opened my eyes. I think I'll follow Potions._

_Are you surprised? You would be if you know me (I can't shake the feeling that you do, and that I know you; what a misplaced notion). I haven't shown any inclination to the subject before, but now... well, I'm thinking that an apprenticeship would be ideal. Preferably, with the man lurking floors below me right now. I'm not sure how _that_ will go down, but I am determined. At the very least, he can be my reference._

_References? Careers? I forget myself again! There won't even _be_ a future for me if Harry doesn't succeed, if we don't win against You Know Who. I need to concentrate my efforts on helping him, helping those on his side, and ultimately putting my life on hold for it. It's the least I can do, when so many have given their entire lives for the cause._

"Fool." Snape hissed as he read that particularly self-sacrificing page. "You will become a martyr for Potter, and deprive the Wizarding world of all you have to offer. _Fool_."

_Fool..._ it was indeed foolish, to believe in her friend so whole heartedly. Dumbledore was pinning all his hopes on the boy, but she didn't have to jump on the bandwagon... then again, hadn't he as well? Wasn't Snape himself fighting for Potter, even as he sat there? The Order was nothing more than a fighting force waiting for the right leader.

How he wished Granger, and all those touched by tragedy, weren't a part of it.


	4. Willows and Wistfulness

**A/N: The last chapter was a bit short, so I decided to be nice and post this one as well... c'mon, you know you love me :D review to show your gratitude!**

**

**

**CHAPTER 4: WILLOWS AND WISTFULNESS**

**

**

Hermione wasn't quite sure, but there was definitely some coolness from the Potions Master in the dungeons that night. She could see a slight tension in his shoulders as he worked the pestle, and his occasional answers to her queries were short and sharp.

Then again, Hermione wasn't at her peak either; before she left she had overhead Ron whispering to Harry, "_We go tonight._" She had said nothing; now she wished that she had confronted them, asked them where they were going. But she was well and truly out of the loop now, with no easy way to remedy the situation. She didn't even know why they were doing anything! What if they were leaving the Castle? Going after some Death Eaters?

How could she live with herself, knowing that she could have stopped them?

"Granger!" The bark came loudly through her thoughts.

She jumped slightly, looking down at the leaves she had been neglecting to cut for the past five minutes.

"If you cannot keep your mind on your work, you should not be here." He said roughly. "Please leave your juvenile concerns out of my laboratory."

"_Juvenile concerns_?" She said, stung by the implication. "Nothing of the sort."

"Please." He snorted. "Don't tell me... academic? Romantic?"

She gave him a withering look.

"Hmm... what about our Golden Boy?"

_He was quick; she would give him that..._

"The subject is irrelevant." She said loftily, returning to her work with a renewed vigour. "If you would stop interrogating me, I have some vine leaves to-"

"Ah... so it _is _Potter, then."

She tried to look nonchalant, but knew that she failed miserably. "What is Potter?"

"The subject of your thoughts."

She was getting frustrated. "So, what if he is? Aren't I entitled to worry about my friends on occasion?"

"Not if it distracts you from your hands. Why are you _worried_, as you put it?" He pressed her, continuing to look at her with narrowed eyes. "What has he done this time?"

_There- a flicker, a thought, a fear in her eyes, which was gone as soon as he saw it._

"Miss Granger... I'll ask you again, this time in my capacity as a senior Order member, and you as a minor one. _What has he done this time?_"

She flinched slightly. "I don't know." She whispered. "They have something planned for tonight, and... I was worried..."

"Stay right here." He managed to shoot at her, as he rushed to his feet and grabbed his outer robe. "If I'm not back in twenty minutes, go to Albus."

Then he was gone, out the door before Hermione could reply or even defend herself. "Now look what you've done..." She groaned. "Harry's not going to be..." Then she remembered what she had been thinking only minutes ago; it was for the best that his stupid and impulsive acts were reigned in. There was still a long way to go yet, and Harry didn't think in the long term. If anyone could catch him now, it would be Snape.

Whether Harry would come back quietly was another matter entirely.

**

**

Snape cursed silently as he stalked the halls, having already confirmed that Potter and Weasley were not, in fact, in their respective beds. It was with a sinking feeling that he realised they were probably already outside. All of the tunnel entrances (that he knew of, anyway) hadn't been touched, if his wards were anything to go by.

He almost ran out the Front doors when he felt a ward twinge- one that he didn't expect, as only those of exceeding stupidity would bother to try escape through that route.

_The Willow, Potter? When are you going to learn...?_

As the willow grew each year, the bark fell about it, grew anew, sprouted new branches...it was constantly shifting- as was the knot that froze it.

His theory was confirmed when he heard a muffled shout from ahead; he could now see the branches whipping wildly at thin air, as the boys were under the Invisibility Cloak. There was a lone stick floating through the air, poking ineffectively at a knot on the trunk.

With a barely suppressed growl of frustration, he cast a spell on his eyes which allowed him to see heat momentarily. _There._ Squashed under the enchanted material, two pulsing hearts...

"_Expelliarmus._" He hissed, and two wands flew through the air towards him, to the cries of their owners. With another quick flick, the Cloak was in his hands and the boys were revealed, ruffled and furious.

"Dare I even _ask_ what you two are doing, trying to escape?" He said in a low, threatening growl. He was almost shaking with suppressed rage; idiots! What were they trying to prove?

"None of your-" Weasley began, but Snape cut off the sentence before it could get him into more trouble (if that was possible).

"Get inside, _now_."

The boys looked at each other, and Snape knew that he had won this round- but how many more would they hold on for before he couldn't stop them anymore?

**

**

Hermione was almost frantic by the time Snape returned to the lab. She jumped up as soon as he entered, eager for news. Two more minutes, and she would have gone to the Headmaster. "Are they... alright?"

He snorted. "I managed to protect them from their own stupidity- for now."

Hermione nodded slowly. She didn't regret stopping them in the slightest. _Boys!_ She thought in the same tone that Snape leant to '_Gryffindors!'_ and '_Idiots!'_

"That may be all for tonight, Miss Granger... I suggest you return to your chambers and tell your inquisitive friends before they arrive that you did not see me tonight."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Sir, I-"

"They must trust you in the future, if we are to prevent these escapades."

"Of course." She murmured. Coming to a decision, she turned to him. "Did they mention their purpose?"

He passed a hand over his eyes in a tired gesture. "Something about an artefact of some importance... a weapon."

"A weapon..."

He waved a hand at her irritably. "Go, go! They will be finished with the Headmaster soon enough."

She left, looking back once to see his expression- one of deep emotion that she could almost call regret. Its power took her breath away, but she managed to continue walking.

**

**

_He didn't take any House points. I saw the hourglasses the next morning. That means that it was more important than a mere breaking of school rules, and that he recognised their intention was war related. They're still puzzling over his leniency, whispering in confusion to each other in the corner as I write this. I'm beginning to wonder...is a noble heart, giving soul and quick reflexes really enough?_

_I can't believe that I'm beginning to doubt Harry. It must be all the time I'm spending with Professor Snape, I guess. He can be influential at times; he's changed my mind many a time in our wide ranging debates and really made me challenge the intellectual opinions that I thought were factual. I can remember them now; 'Just because it's in a textbook, Miss Granger, doesn't mean it's the truth'._

**

**

They were halfway through Charms when it happened. An amplified voice that Hermione identified as Dumbledore's rang through the halls.

"_ALL STUDENTS ARE TO RETURN THE THEIR DORMITORIES. TEACHERS ARE TO ASSEMBLE IN THE GREAT HALL IMMEDIATELY."_

Hermione saw Harry pale at the announcement; there were only a few reasons that a lockdown would be called.

"Hogsmeade has been attacked once again." McGonagall said stiffly once they were all assembled and she had returned from the Great Hall. "The school is in lockdown until further notice."

The whispering began.

"In broad daylight?"

"Death Eaters?"

"Is anyone... you know... a casualty?"

"We don't know the full details." She said reluctantly. "Until all information comes through, all we can do is stay vigilant- and hope."

"We can fight." Hermione heard Harry hiss under his breath. "I _will_ fight."

Hermione hoped he was talking about the distant future, and not right that second.

**

**

A week of tense alertness passed, with nothing eventuating. No news came through for the first few days, and then Dumbledore announced that there had been four deaths and twenty injuries from the latest Hogsmeade attack. No one that Hermione knew, expect one of the injured people was an Auror and Order member that she recognised vaguely. At least they had shown up to fight; all too often, they arrived too late to save anyone.

**

**

The next day, the Great Hall was interrupted by a rare breakfast speech from the Headmaster.

"Limited amounts of mail have been allowed to enter the school; these will be distributed within the next few hours. Anyone who receives a letter calling them to return home..." His expression grew solemn, "Must see me by the end of the day to discuss certain arrangements. You also have the right to read your letters in your Dormitories instead of class time, although I suggest this time to be brief in the interest of your academic pursuits." He smiled wanly, knowing that many of them would skive off classes just because they _could_. "That will be all."

"I'm not going home even if they ask me." Seamus declared from his seat, most of the elder Gryffindors nodding in agreement. "This is the safest place in Britain, everyone knows that!"

"Including the enemy." Dean argued. "We're a target, and even the best fortress has faults. Do you think the Hogsmeade attacks are a coincidence? They want what's _here_."

Before anyone could say what- or _who_- that was, they were rushed along to class.

**

**

Hermione's letter that morning had rather adverse effects as Snape read it over his wake-up coffee.

_I received no letter. Almost my entire Potions class was gone by the end of yesterday, either meeting Dumbledore or just pretending to read their letters. Snape didn't end up going ahead with the lesson, and in a surprise move, dismissed the entire class! I think that's an unprecedented event in all of Hogwarts history; but such are the circumstances that everyone won't think on it ever again._

_I wonder how my parents are. It's been a while since I thought of them, but the pain that welled up today was familiar, as though I've merely been suppressing it. I miss the smell of my mother's cooking, the sound of my father's wheezing laugh, and the Muggle rituals I always took for granted. Just figuring out how to get the car started on a frosty day, or going to the Dentist's surgery to see them working._

_I miss them so much it hurts._

_I know they feel the same, even if I can't tell them... they're out there, and I can't tell them! It's the ultimate frustration._

_No offence, my dear Hyperion, but you are indeed a poor substitute. I am eternally grateful for your support, but there are some things you can't provide. Unconditional love, escape from my troubles, birthday presents given with affection and good humour._

_I suppose I will have to soldier on without it, living off the memories._

_My, am I maudlin today! Today of all days..._

_Hermione._

Snape frowned 'today of all days'? It took him a few minutes to have the suspicion firmly in his mind. A quick check in the Hogwarts records confirmed it.

_Hmm..._

A plan began to formulate in his mind. One that required skill, stealth, and black market goods.

All things he was familiar with. He smirked. No one would suspect a thing.

Why was he thinking about this? As much as he tried, he couldn't shake the idea out of his head. He gave in to his inner demon eventually, trying not to categorise his motives as he began the preparation.

It was time to exercise his considerable talents.

**A little bit of a cliffhanger, but you can handle it :)**


	5. Celebration and Indecision

**A/N: Unless I am much mistaken, this is my largest chapter yet! I was going to split it up, but all your reviews were begging me so much that I gave in :)**

**A few of you have guessed what's coming, but I hope it's a nice (and slightly fluffy) surprise for others!**

**Without further ado, I bring to you...**

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**CHAPTER 5: CELEBRATION AND INDECISION**

**

**

The day started off normally enough. Hermione ate her breakfast in her usual near-silence, the boys joked around in their usual way, Ginny was attached to Harry's side like she had been all year. A distinct absence of morning post meant that the meal was shorter than usual, so they usually lingered in the Entrance Hall before going to their respective classes.

Something was different...

"What's that?" Hermione heard someone gasp. Mildly interested, she looked at the third-year Hufflepuff's puzzled gaze, and to where it sat.

Near the ceiling, a large banner had appeared, spanning almost the entire space of the Hall. It simply said in large, dark blue and shimmering letters, _Happy Birthday_.

As soon as Hermione walked through the doorway, a burst of golden sparks erupted from the banner, showering the squealing students in shining motes of pure gold.

Hermione's heart leapt into her mouth, before her enthusiasm died down. It couldn't be for her; Harry and Ron had forgotten almost every single year, and she had never thought it particularly important between her friends anyway. There was a high chance that it was for someone else. She turned to go, brushing off the glitter, as the speculation surrounding the banner grew.

"Do you know who it's for?"

"No, but whoever put it up is going to get in serious trouble with Filch."

"It's not like he could Charm it down, after all."

"Is it for Ravenclaw, do you think? The writing's blue..."

"Did anyone mention it at the Ravenclaw table, Harper?"

"Not that I heard..."

Hermione had heard just about enough when the bell to the first class tolled; relieved, she followed the rest of her class up the stairs. What a strange start to the day...

Transfiguration and Ancient Runes came and went, and they retuned to the Dorm for some last minute study before their upcoming Charms exam during lunch.

A tentative knock on the door, and then a fourth-year student walked into the room. "Erm... I have a message for Miss Granger?"

Everyone went quiet. A message? Most news these days was _bad_ news... but they wouldn't break it to her in the middle of the room, would they? They usually call them away first...

"I'm over here." She said a little breathlessly; the girl laid a sealed piece of parchment in front of Hermione, who felt like she couldn't breathe.

"You okay, Mione?" Ron said softly. "It's probably not as bad as you think... did you want to open it later, just in case?"

"They wouldn't send it here unless it was harmless." She replied, hoping that it was true. With a deep breath, she cracked open the seal. Shielding it slightly from the boys until she was sure of the contents, she read it swiftly. There were only a few lines of writing.

_On your coming of age,_

_I offer you a token;_

_Discover its properties._

_Hyperion._

Hermione gaped openly at the note. _What?_ What _token_?

As if to answer her question, a tapping on the window made the room jump. She rushed to answer it, recognising with joy that it was Hyperion's owl, Jupitus.

"Hermione? What did it say?" Harry said, his voice barely controlled. "How did the owl get through?"

"I don't know!" She said brightly, holding out her arm further so the dangerous-looking bird could flap and make itself comfortable. "But he has a package for me."

Sure enough, tied to one scaly leg, was a small package wrapped in brown paper. She untied it, and Jupitus flew away immediately.

She realised that almost everyone in the room was looking at her now; she blushed slightly under the attention.

"Who is it from?" Ron asked with a frown.

Hermione ignored the question, instead sitting back down and pulling open the paper with infinite care; a small prism fell into her lap, the size of a Bludger. It refracted the light in a dozen different ways, and Hermione felt that she could lose herself in its depths.

Ginny leant over, and looked at Hermione once. Seeing the joy in Hermione's eyes, she nodded slightly and winked. She knew who had sent it.

"What..."

"Will you stop asking so many questions, Ron? You sound like me." She held it up, again marvelling at its clarity.

Harry grinned. "Good call, but seriously Hermione... we're all pretty curious here."

"Look at the time! Charms, here we come." She rushed upstairs to put the present away, and then came back down to see the despondent expressions on her friend's faces.

"All shall be revealed in the fullness of time." She said, and with that, positively bounced out of the room.

**

**

They tried throughout dinner to prise it out of her, but she was intentionally vague and teasing. Ginny soon joined in on it, making the boys even more annoyed when they realised she knew the truth too.

The plates cleared in their usual manner, and dessert was meant to be served almost immediately after.

The plates were empty for at least five minutes; the students were stirring and looking curiously around the Hall to see if anyone else was getting food. Even Dumbledore turned to the teachers around him, who all looked as puzzled as he was.

With a sudden flash, all of the table were filled with their usual fare- except with one notable difference.

There was a _massive_ platter of mud cake in the middle of each table, the dessert easily a metre wide.

"That's... strange."

Hermione almost had a heart attack when she saw the top of the confectionary- in bold icing...

_Happy Birthday again, Hermione!_

The entire student body looked straight at her- at _her!_

She didn't know what to do under all those stares. She could feel that her jaw was halfway to the floor, and her face was flaming hot; what could she _do_ in that situation?

"Good Merlin, Hermione- it's your _birthday_??" Ron burst out in horror.

"There's isn't another one at Hogwarts, so I would assume so." Harry said numbly, still staring at her.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron asked desperately. "We would have-"

"Really, it doesn't matter... I didn't really want anything anyway; this is all a bit..." She waved her hand at the mud cake. "...excessive."

Most people had returned to their normal dessert, but she was still incredibly self-conscious. She looked up at the Staff table for the first time; the Headmaster caught her eye and held up a forkful of the chocolate cake, indicating that he was amused by Hyperion's message. Most of the others were trying to look faintly disapproving but amused, and Snape was- well, at least he was looking at her, but it was more of a calculating look.

It was with a slightly trembling hand that she reached for her Birthday cake.

As much as she hated to admit it, the mud cake was delicious.

**

**

_I don't know where to begin. I suppose it's my fault for telling you too much in my last letter; but was that really enough to go off? You must know from another source that it was my birthday... but I digress onto the familiar path of doubt. I know nothing about you, so let's just leave it at that._

_No! Now I _do_ know something about you; you have a humorous streak._

Snape almost spat out his wine at _that _ludicrous statement.

_Only a joker could come up with a plan like that. And, although it may seem like I don't appreciate your efforts- I will say so now. Thank you, Hyperion, for making a normally miserable day something special to remember. Thank you for your wonderful gift- once I figure out what it is. Thank you for thinking of me, and taking time from your supposedly busy life to do something for me._

_But, most of all, thank you for caring._

_Hermione_

Snape started. _Caring?_ Yes, it could be called that... he definitely felt faintly protective of her, and more than a little bit angered that her so-called friends didn't even recognise her most of the time, not even on her birthday.

He shook himself internally. He had never made a fuss out of birthdays; in his mind, they were quite over-rated. Why was he now?

_Because she's under your protection; she's alone; you're spending more time with her; she's just like you._

**

**

Hermione left Harry and Ron with the distinct impression that she had a particularly forward suitor (a label that she shuddered at; how old was Hyperion, really?) and wrote her letter that day with more honesty and vigour than she had previously. Ginny came up soon after, curious at the contents of her mysterious package.

They both stared at the prism for a while, stumped for ideas. The only thing they could think of was a Remembrall; Hermione held it idly in her hands, smiling as she remembered Neville getting the similar mysterious package...

"Hermione, look!" Ginny gasped. "It's changing!"

And, sure enough, the prism wasn't clear anymore; in its depths, a picture of Neville in First Year smiled up at them, pressing on his Remembrall and frowning at the red smoky contents.

"Hermione- do you think it's like a Pensieve? You know, it can store memories?"

It clicked. She rummaged through the drawer of her bedside table, got out the journal, and turned to a few entries ago.

_I suppose I will have to soldier on without it, living off the memories._

"Living off the memories..." She whispered. Concentrating again, she thought hard about her parents: things she had almost forgotten, moments and sensations and images that captured their essence.

They sprang to life inside the crystal, the nature of the magic enhancing and enlarging them beyond the boundaries of the shape. _Mum... dad..._ they were laughing together, happy...

There was an emotional pause in which Hermione forcefully took hold of her emotions.

Ginny said slowly, "Hermione... that's amazing. It must have been expensive."

"He's probably rich... but why did he give _me _one at all? It doesn't make sense; all I wanted, all I asked for, was the necessities. Nothing like presents, or birthday cake..." _Definitely _not_ the birthday cake._

"Isn't it obvious, Hermione?" Ginny said with a cheeky grin. "He's enamoured."

Hermione winced. "Please, Ginny, he could be _anybody_. We could know them already!"

"In any case, he's the best guardian you could have asked for... I'd stay on his good side if I were you."

**

**

It seemed that many concerned parents were readily taking their children's safety into their own hands; easily two thirds of the student body were scheduled to leave by Portkey from the outskirts of Hogsmeade, which was under intense Auror guard. The farewells were tearful, long and in many cases unexpected. The best news of all was that Malfoy was leaving, instead being tutored at his Manor.

Needless to say, not many tears were shed upon _his _departure.

A new timetable was introduced, with all four Houses mixed in together for lack of students. This increased inter-House friction slightly, but not as much as one would expect; they were more concerned with external problems.

The attacks continued frequently around the country. From what Hermione heard in their infrequent reports, the Aurors (and, indirectly, the Order) were hard pressed to stop any of them. Only a few arrests had been made.

The only place Hermione had to look for evidence of this escalation was Professor Snape.

He had always looked mildly ill, and his exterior didn't change overmuch; it was more in his manner, his stamina, and his short temper. Being one of the only students to be with him on a regular basis, Hermione noted these growing symptoms with a degree of concern.

She decided to take this into her own hands. She approached Madame Pomfrey one day about making Potions in her free periods in her office; Snape would be teaching, after all, and his private laboratory was too dangerous for her to be left alone in. She complied, not even asking whether Snape was aware of the new arrangement. So it began the Hermione was brewing almost every day of the week; it only required a little more effort on her part, and less time for homework or study, but she managed well enough.

**

**

Hermione arrived at the dungeons at her usual time, chancing a small smile at the Professor. He was looking marginally better.

"Tonight, Miss Granger, we will be replenishing Pomfrey's Blood-Replenishing draught; apparently the last Quidditch practice used up the remainder..."

"We... have enough, Professor. It was done last week, I believe."

He frowned. "I do not recall, Miss Granger, and I _do_ have an exceptional memory."

Hermione swallowed, hoping that he attributed her nerves to something else. "If you check the cupboard, sir..."

He kept his eyes on her, not impressed by her defiance. In one smooth movement, he walked to the storage and opened to the relevant shelf. Sure enough, there was a range of bottled neatly marked in her script. He stood there, frozen for a moment, before turning back to her and closing the doors with an audible snap.

"The Skele-Gro is there as well... How long have you been brewing solo, Miss Granger?"

Before she could answer, he waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Never mind. I am not _adverse_ to the idea, Miss Granger, only to the fact that you kept it from me."

"Well, I thought... with current events..."

His eyes flashed, and she felt a stab of apprehension. He knew immediately to what he was referring; the way he avoided carrying heavy loads with his left arm, the way he sometimes limped, and the slight tremble to his hands after a long week.

"Do not assume to know anything about me, or my limitations, Miss Granger." He said softly. "In that case, we shall move onto something... extra-curricular, if you will."

Hermione was disorientated at the change of subject, so she remained silent.

"Our mutual friends have long desired a batch of Veritserum; are you prepared to assist in brewing some?"

Hermione assumed 'friends' meant the Order, as he often used that pseudonym. "Yes, sir; it would be an honour. Except..." She ticked off the calendar in her head. "The holidays will come before the most crucial stage."

"We shall be doing only the preparatory steps here; the intensive sections must be carried out at the Headquarters. I assume you are spending a majority of your break there?" His question seemed to come from the blue.

"Ah... yes. I guess so." _I don't have anywhere else do go, do I?_

"Very well. Until then, Miss Granger, we will continue with preliminary steps..."

They settled into their familiar rhythm, one that Hermione had come to rely on. She thought wryly that the only stability she had found at Hogwarts was in her academic pursuits, and in these rare moments of intensive peace.

**

**

_The last day of term... I have to confess myself apprehensive at the least at what the break may bring. I'm going to Harry's house, for lack of a better offer; it won't be long before they ask why I'm not making my regular visits to my parents. As such, I dread having to tell them the awful truth._

"You haven't _told_ them?" Snape said in sudden surprise. "For Merlin's sake, why not?"

_Harry has too much on his plate already; worrying about my parents won't be helpful in any way._

Snape considered this; in his opinion, the girl was far too sacrificing, but he supposed that everyone had their ways of contributing to the cause. His own was... unusual, to be sure, but wasn't she risking as much as he was? In what ways were they different; putting their lives on hold, their talents reduced to the occasional batch of Veritserum?

_I have mixed feelings about leaving Hogwarts; it had always seemed impenetrable, a safe haven, a refuge. But now I know just how untrue that was, in a way that will most likely affect me for the rest of my life. The Potion I take is a daily reminder of the toll this war can take- on anyone, anywhere. All I can do is be prepared for the worst at any opportunity._

_Looking back over that, I see how dark my own mind has become. When did I become this person- this girl I hardly recognise, this _soldier _for a cause beyond belief?_

_I'm already in too deep, so there's no going back. But I can stop it becoming the reality for others. To use an old clique, 'think of the children'._

_Well, there's the last call for those leaving over the holidays; I must say goodbye for now, my dear Hyperion; and if I may say so, thankyou for listening._

_Hermione_

"You're welcome, Hermione." He muttered. To him the Hermione of the letters and the Miss Granger of his classes was slowly coming together; she was still a mystery in many parts, but he could almost comprehend what made her tick.

Would she be so open if she knew who it was? A familiar surge of self-loathing welled up as he contemplated this. Of course she thought him incapable of every proper emotion; the bat of the dungeons, the hard-man on the front line. Most of what they said about him was true, but there was still a human inside the exterior- it was just that many people didn't bother to look, saw him as too hard to crack and left him to his own devices.

To sum up, his analytical mind insisted that this was a kind of an artificial friendship; an attempt to have a connection with another human being. Granger was merely convenient.

Despite this solid conclusion, he couldn't help feeing that he was missing a vital chunk of data.

**

**


	6. Arrivals and Departures

**A double update! Aren't you proud of me?**

**I was just bored, and this was ready to go, so... enjoy!**

**

**

**CHAPTER 6: ARRIVALS AND DEPARTURES**

**

**

"Hermione, chuck me that cloth, would you?"

They were several hours into the cleaning of what was to be the guest room at Grimmauld Place, and the grime was slowly lifting under the combination of magic and elbow grease. Hermione settled back into the familiar rhythm between Harry, Ron and herself; it was relieving to just _live_, to just enjoy herself without a care in the world. She hoped that the feeling wouldn't leave, but she knew deep inside that it couldn't last long.

She wanted it to be longer than it turned out.

**

**

"Found another one." Hermione said tiredly, writing down the page reference with a flick of her quill. They were in the dark library of Grimmauld Place, where they had volunteered to do Order work. She just didn't realise that it would involve so much... _paperwork._

"I can't feel my fingers." Ron muttered. "Why are we doing this again?"

Why, indeed... as it turned out, they were really doing Auror work- catching up on behalf of Tonks, Shacklebolt and the others, who were unable to carry the workload plus their off-duty work for the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione reminded herself daily that better work would soon be heading her way- in the form of a bubbling potion and a surly Professor.

But, for the moment, they were stuck with Witness Statements and Cross Referencing swimming in front of their tired eyes.

As a result, her entries were sharper than usual.

_I go on a holiday, only to find that no form of relaxation is involved. Really, if it wasn't for the Potions sessions coming up, I might go mad..._

_But there is where I stop. I cannot assume to know anything about you, or how deep you are in fighting the Dark forces. Nevertheless, allow me this final, ambiguous, and undoubtedly curious rant._

_Where on _Earth _could that man _be_???_

"I'm _coming_, Miss Granger... honestly, have you no patience?"

**

**

The fairly noisy family dinner (including a majority of the Weasley's, one Potter, one Tonks and one Moody) almost completely covered the sound of the doorbell. Hermione asked someone over the din if she should answer it, and got a wave in response. Supposing that it was an invitation, she ran on light feet down the hall and drew out her wand as a precaution. She drew back the heavy bolt, peeking her head around the door-

The door swung open with a _bang_ as the body leaning on it collapsed inside, a blur of sodden black cloth and pale skin. Hermione was immediately on guard, but soon appraised the situation as it was.

"Get me some help down here!" She shouted as loud as she could, being rewarded with a sudden hush and a scrape of chairs. She turned the man over, seeing what she had assumed; Snape was limp in her arms, his eyes closed and unresponsive. She shuddered as she saw a patch of sticky blood on the front of his robes. "Professor, can you hear me?" She said, feeling a little numb. "You're safe, sir... you're here."

Mad-Eye and Mr. Weasley arrived, and Snape's heavy form was taken from her arms. It seemed wrong, the way he hung there limp and submissive. She realised belatedly that there was water and blood on her Muggle jumper and jeans when Harry and Ron saw her return to the kitchen, pale faced.

"Who was it?" Harry said urgently. "They wouldn't let us look..."

"Professor Snape." Hermione said woodenly. "It looked pretty serious."

Even Ron had to good sense to look sombre.

**

**

Hermione was not allowed near the recovering Professor. No one was, in fact; as far as Hermione could tell, the only people with contact to the man were Dumbledore who had visited a few times and Mrs. Weasley when she delivered his meals. So it was that a few days after the incident she was extremely shocked to find that he had asked for her.

Mrs. Weasley had told her after lunch. "Severus wants to talk to you, dear, something about a potion of some sort..."

Now she was standing on the landing, totally unprepared for what lay behind the door.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't worried about him. Every time he came back to Hogwarts drained physically and emotionally she would feel a twinge of sympathy that she would shove down, knowing that it was the last thing he wanted. Instead, she had turned that sympathy into something completely unexpected: anger. How _dare_ this war take its toll on him? How _dare_ You Know Who put him through this? How _dare_ she let him go back, again and again?

"Were you going to come in, or stand in the corridor indefinitely?"

She winced, opening the door slowly.

It wasn't as bad as she had expected; he was sitting at his desk, an obvious stiffness preventing sudden movement, a plain black ensemble on (without shoes, which she noticed with a strange detachment) and the same arrogance to his face.

It was almost with a palpable relief that she said, "You're looking much improved, sir."

He frowned. "You saw me previously?"

She shifted."Yes, sir... I answered the door."

He froze for a moment, and then relaxed with an obvious effort. "I was not informed... no matter, I will soon fully capable of the intensive brewing required. Are you ready?"

"Yes sir; I've cleared out the laboratory Mrs. Weasley mentioned you used last time, and stocked it with the basic apparatus."

"Very well..." He looked at her for a long moment, and she felt a hitch in her chest as his gaze shifted beyond a mere appraisal. There was a long and pregnant silence before he broke their eye contact. "The ingredients are in that trunk." He inclined his head to a small leather and wood box by the foot of the bed. "Please be careful."

"Of course." She managed not to be injured by the implication, knowing that it was common sense. "When should it be ready for, Professor?"

His expression clouded over for a second, so quickly that Hermione thought she might have been imagining it. "A few days, four at the most... and after that, I have the remainder of my life."

Hermione froze in her act of picking up the trunk, slowly coming to terms with what he had said. Did that mean... he was finished? He wasn't a Death Eater?

"To prevent speculation and investigation on your inquisitive part, Miss Granger, I was indeed discovered by the Dark Lord- and was to be punished accordingly. Needless to say, that wasn't my preferred course of action... and you can refrain from the repetition of 'Professor'. That is no longer relevant." He was brooding again, looking past her and into some unimaginable memory.

She didn't know what to say to that, so she merely picked up the trunk and nodded in his direction. "I'll be waiting for you, sir." _You're still needed here- you still have a purpose..._

He seemed to get the subtext; his eyes glittered with sudden feeling. "Then I will endeavour to be down earlier, rather than later."

She left the room conflicted; how would he cope? Would he be able to live without the role that had been his only refuge for so long? Without the Slytherins that he so carefully cultivated and shielded without their knowledge? Only time would tell, and she would be watching.

**

**

Snape watched her retreating back with dark thoughts returning as she closed the door. He had seen the flash of pity in her eyes- pity that was immediately quashed in favour of professionalism and a blank concern. He leaned over his desk top to reach a quill, wincing as the wound protested.

The wound... she had seen it, presumably. A jagged slash across his torso, courtesy of Lucius Malfoy. Scorned by his master, demoted beyond his lowest expectations, he'd gone mad. Once the proud leader of the recent undetectable guerrilla group- now shamed for not killing them before the Ministry got hold of them for questioning.

They didn't know much, of course; Malfoy was too careful in that respect, and he'd always hidden his identity during the training sessions. But they knew enough to seriously inconvenience the Dark Lord, who had taken measures to stop it happening again.

Snape hadn't been there, but he'd heard hoarse whispers in dark corridors that Malfoy had pleaded like a Muggle child to spare his life. The Dark Lord did not like beggars.

Draco would never look upon his father's face again- only ruined flesh remained in its place. The Dark Lord had given the ultimate humiliation; no power, no physical intimidation, and definitely no minions.

In turn, Malfoy had struck out at Snape; an irrational, impulsive move that nevertheless was the spy's downfall. In his manic search for redemption in the Dark Lord's eyes, he had uncovered Snape's true colours- through a series of events that Snape saw as sheer luck and a slight misjudgement on his part, Malfoy had enough evidence to present his case to their Master.

Snape had barely escaped with his life.

In a way, he wished that he hadn't.

At least he'd taken Lucius out with him, an action that he would never regret.

**

**

Harry and Ron were inexplicably waiting at the bottom of the staircase, and they both looked strangely relieved when they saw Hermione coming down. "What did you expect?" She said in frustration. "Snape dragging my body down the stairs?"

They looked at each other, and she knew that was exactly what they expected. "Do you need help with that?" Harry said to cover the moment.

The boys carried it down to the dungeon for her, even though she was perfectly capable with a small weight-reduction charm.

"I've never heard you call him plain 'Snape' before." Harry said suddenly. "Have anything to tell us?"

Hermione blinked; sometimes he was freakily perceptive. "It's not my place to say." She said finally, knowing that most of what they discussed was in confidence. It couldn't be hidden forever, but it should be released on his terms. She instead decided to drop a lesser bombshell. "I've been working with him for a term."

"_What?_" Harry choked. "What on?"

"Potions, mostly... stuff for the Order." She didn't want to elaborate, as it would only make him angrier. "Look, I feel like I'm doing something useful with my time."

"Sure, that's fine, but... why didn't you tell us?" Ron said incredulously. "I mean, what if something had..."

She glared at him. "Care to _elaborate_, Ronald?"

"Come on, Hermione..." Ron began, but Harry sent him a quick look. He settled into muttered grumbling, and the conversation moved to less controversial topics.

Then they asked the question that she really, really didn't want to answer. "Are you visiting your parents these holidays?" Harry said. "I've never known you to miss one... don't stay here only for the Order."

"I can't see my parents, Harry."

"Why not?" He frowned.

"They... I don't know where they are." She whispered, the feeling of despair welling up again. "I haven't seen them all year."

"Were they... taken? Why didn't you tell us _this_ either?" Ron said in a strange mixture of frustration and compassion.

Hermione shook her head. "They were under Order protection, but no one alive knows where. It'll be near impossible to find them now."

"I'm sorry, Hermione... if we knew..." Harry began, but she retorted quickly.

"What could you have done? Nothing. Don't let it get to you, Harry. They're safe, and that's enough to keep me fighting."

Harry laid his hand on her shoulder, sending her comfort. "We're here if you need us, Hermione. We won't forget what you've given up- what you're still giving up."

The three of them shared a sombre moment before returning upstairs, steeling themselves for the public eye.

**

**

It was only after dinner that Hermione could find the time to further set up the lab, and she did so with the meticulous care expected of her. She felt the cold of the basement seeping into her, but she shrugged it off, thinking that she would only be a few minutes longer.

She was replacing the last vial when the tremors started.

She gasped in shock as they travelled up her arms, down her legs, making her tremble violently and her teeth chatter. It was soon so painful that she bit her lip to keep from screaming; she had barely enough time to reach for her wand and cast a clumsy Warming Charm, hoping that it would help somewhat.

She sat there on the stone floor, trying to relax her twitching limbs and berating herself for pushing her body beyond its limits. Cold was one of the triggers for the Curse, she remembered... Snape's voice seemed to come to her, clearing her mind. _In the event of an episode, you can take an extra dose of the Potion if it's on hand, or wait it out- which can be the more painful option, certainly, but you'll live._

They had almost stopped; she risked shifting around so she could grab the table and pulled herself up, wincing at the stress on her weak legs.

"Idiot." She hissed to herself in a Snape-esque tone, as she painstakingly climbed the stairs (were there always that many?) to her rooms.

She slept for most of the night, and into the next morning, and was only awoken by the call from Ginny that she was going to miss breakfast.

**

**

She hadn't written in the journal that night. Snape knew he shouldn't be so worried, but he was; if he could rely on one thing, it was Granger writing to him as regular as clockwork. He had been staring at the clear white page for a while before he snapped out of his strange fixation.

What could she have to say that was so fascinating to him? She probably wouldn't mention him anyway.

**

**

_What a strange night... I didn't get the chance to write yesterday's letter, which shouldn't bother you- you specified one a week to be satisfactory, but I've always been an overachiever._

_I might as well admit this, since you're partly responsible for my safety; I had a relapse last night._

Snape sat up, wincing as the pain in his side dug in suddenly. A relapse?

_It was a lack of vigilance on my part, but one that I never hope to repeat; it was painful, to say the least, and excruciating at the most._

_That basement... I'll have to research some warming spells; I'm sure Sn- Professor Snape had something similar in the old ones; they never seemed as chilly as the outside air._

Snape noted that she had corrected her address to include 'Professor'; she was right in assuming that he didn't want his exit from Hogwarts to be generally known, at least not yet.

**

**

"You alright, Hermione? You look a little peaky." Ron said from his lounge, the question muffled by the books surrounding them.

"It's just a cold, I'll be fine." Hermione sniffed, smiling at Ron's concern. She had on Hyperion's winter robes in an attempt to keep warm, Grimmauld Place being difficult to heat.

"Listen, Hermione..." he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I know that we haven't been that close this year, and I'm sorry, but you're still a great friend." He blurted out.

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "Thanks, Ron. That really means a lot to me... but where did this come from?"

He went even redder. "I just thought... it needed to be said."

**

**

Hermione was early down to breakfast the next day, and she was happy to help with the cooking of copious amounts of bacon, egg and sausage.

"Ginny, would you call down the boys for me? They're never usually this late..." Molly huffed, laying out the extra place settings on the scrubbed wooden table.

Ginny came back in a few minutes, a slight frown on her face. "They weren't in their rooms."

"Did you try the Library?" Hermione asked. "As strange as that may seem, they may have fallen asleep in there late last night."

Ginny shook her head. "Not that I could see. I called for them too."

Mr. Weasley walked in, looking around. "Is Harry here? We need to talk."

"We can't find him."

"What?" Arthur gasped, spinning around. It was the fastest that Hermione had ever seen him move. "What about Ron?"

"Neither of them..."

"Dammit." He swore, surprising Hermione even more. He ran out of the room, the thumping of him going upstairs fading into silence.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Molly whispered.

Mr. Weasley came back with the news that none of them wanted to hear, his tired face shadowed.

"They're gone. They've gone to find _him_."

A sound behind Mr. Weasley drew Hermione's attention; to her surprise, Snape came out of the shadows, an unfathomable expression on his face. Hermione was sure that no one else had seen him; he looked directly at her, nodded once, and turned to leave.

Risking a quick glance behind her to see that the Weasley's weren't looking, Hermione snuck out behind him, a thousand questions swimming through her head. "Sir..."

He turned slowly, leaning slightly on the banister at the bottom of the flight of stairs.

"How much hope is there?" She asked softly. "Do they have a chance?"

He looked into the middle distance. "A chance? Anything can happen, Miss Granger... Dumbledore would have supreme confidence in their choice- but I sense you were asking for my own opinion."

"Yes." She admitted.

He sighed, shifting on the spot. "I've done my utmost to keep them away from the Dark Lord- why do you suppose I did that? Because they couldn't possibly last a defiant second against his power. So yes, you could say that... I hold no hope for their safe return." He turned to her, his dark eyes flashing. "Go ahead, show your Gryffindor optimism. It's hardly refreshing to me, living as I am among them."

Hermione glared at him, strangely numb from the shock. "To be honest... I agree with you."

A flash of mild shock went across his face.

"They're not ready, not that they ever_ could_ be for what they face- but it was an extremely stupid decision on their part, which frankly doesn't surprise me. Do they really believe in quick fixes? They're not going to find one, or at least, won't gain anything from their attempts... in short, it was selfish to betray the Order and strike out on their own."

"It must be hard to admit that, Miss Granger, knowing what you've seen of them in the past... yet I applaud your realism. You'll need it, in the future..."

"I have realism enough, where it's needed." She said softly. "Sometimes I think that's cold, but I see the merit."

He nodded, looking pensive. "Then you are truly a fighter. By all means, wish for their safe return- but don't let it cloud your judgement. I've seen it happen too many times."

They were both silent as they contemplated the recent events, and he turned to leave.

She watched him climb the stairs in his steady way, hoping that both of their assessments would be proven wrong.

**

**


	7. The Offer

**A/N: I've had a few questions, which I will answer here:**

**-- Hermione's 'relapse' in Chapter 6. Remember way back, when Gryffindor Tower was attacked? Hermione was hit with a curse that collapsed her lungs and Snape gave her a Potion to prevent further symptoms. I kind of mentioned it in passing, and it's not terribly important in any case...**

**-- Hermione being left behind by Harry and Ron. They had been drifting apart for a while, some of which was Hermione's fault; as much as they love each other, she was truly out of the loop by Grimmauld Place. Hence, their escape. Plus, they knew now that she was helping Snape in potions- maybe she was needed for that more than for their fool's mission.**

**-- And a comment from my faithful reader, ****duj****, who pointed out that Hermione's birthday cake was "mudcake for a mudblood." To be fair, that wasn't what Snape was thinking at the time!**

**I hope that cleared up a few points... now, onto the good stuff!**

**

**

**CHAPTER 7: THE OFFER**

**

**

As soon as Hermione got over the initial shock, events began to piece together; Ron's sudden confession and apology, Harry's determination to complete as much of the Auror work as he could, their secret discussions with key Order members. They were gone to find a weapon against the Dark Lord, and they weren't coming back until that goal was achieved- or they were dead. She didn't resent that they'd left her behind, but it didn't stop her worrying about them continuously.

_Hyperion,_

_Dumbledore came in yesterday and gave me permission to write about Harry and Ron's epic adventure as well as my work with Snape. It's rather aggravating that I need his opinion for every topic, but it's all for the best..._

_I wonder who you could be. It nags at me every day, don't think it doesn't! Every time I imagine you, it's different- old, young, scholarly, rich, political, idle, with a family, alone, in England, in exotic places... I can't settle on an image. And what do you think of my continual (and mostly empty) chatter? Is it annoying, fascinating, juvenile? Are you even reading? ...yes, I think you are. You were pretty quick to respond to the incident in the Tower- but I'm not going down that road._

_Let's find a safe topic... Potions. We start brewing again tomorrow. I have to admit that I'm very excited; it's a welcome distraction, really, and an excellent opportunity to show Snape that I'd make a good apprentice. Even though he's not a Hogwarts Professor anymore, I could learn so much more from him than any other teacher. If only he would give me a sign! It's like living in limbo, and working with him feels the same- one wrong move, and I'm out._

Snape frowned. Was she really that nervous with him? He couldn't have the lab in such a precarious state... as much as he loathed admitting to it, he needed to relax slightly in her presence. He was no longer her Professor, no longer a figure of authority. They were both members of the Order working together, and that needed a different dynamic.

_In answer to your unspoken but obvious query, I haven't been able to glean anything else about Snape. I know I said I would, but promises are hard to keep when the subject is so difficult._

Why did she insist on analysing him? It was infrequently that she wrote on her specific observations, but they were often uncannily close to the mark. She wouldn't write in such a manner if she knew _he_ was Hyperion; he must be careful, therefore, to not betray anything he had learnt as Hyperion.

**

**

"Good morning, Miss Granger. I trust that you are well."

Hermione noticed with a jolt that he was not in his customary clothing; it was a strange mixture of conservative Muggle and casual Wizard, which interestingly enough didn't look too out of place.

"I am, thankyou." She knew that he wouldn't want her inquiring after his health; if he was down here, he was better- nothing more to it.

She noted that the room was warmer than usual... a creeping suspicion entered her mind as she shrugged off the heavy robes she had been planning on wearing in the chilly space. "What heating Charm did you use? It seems very effective."

He told her as he followed the movement of her arms as she hung up her cloak. "I thought it would make for a... _friendlier_ environment."

She smiled slightly as she moved to the store cupboard, hands automatically picking up the necessary ingredients to set out. She had read the brief of Veritserum dozens of times in the last few days, so she felt more confident than before.

"Let us begin, then."

They had been working for a few hours before the aches set in; it was only a few minutes after that it was commented upon.

"You are trembling, Miss Granger." His blunt reproof came suddenly.

She winced internally. "I believe my muscles are still unused to this type of work."

He snorted in what she guessed was his form of sarcastic laughter. "We both know what it's really from, Miss Granger. Please endeavour to be honest with me this once."

She bristled, but relented. "I had a relapse yesterday, and am not yet fully recovered."

He didn't react outwardly to her admission, but his tone was softer when he replied. "That's better. Now, take a break. I can't have you at anything less than your best on this project."

"Yes sir." She said submissively, knowing that it was true. She finished grinding the Chimera bone and stood to leave.

"One more thing, Miss Granger... I find myself growing tired of your mode of address. The title 'Professor' or 'sir' is, thankfully, no longer my right."

"What would you prefer?" She barely stopped herself calling him 'sir'.

His back was to her as he tipped a bowl into the cauldron, but she still heard his soft reply. "Severus will suffice."

**

**

To Hermione's surprise, her understanding of Snape grew rapidly through their partnership. She gathered that, instead of her becoming more sensitive to him, he had decided to reveal more of himself. It was a gesture that she repaid in kind, and she soon realised that of all the people in Grimmauld Place, Severus was the one she enjoyed being with the most. He could be serious or sardonic at turns, professional or relaxed at others. It soon became the majority of her routine: their laboratory was their refuge from the noisy and chaotic Order business above, and they both enjoyed the respite that their work provided.

Hermione continued to write, her missives to Hyperion becoming another form of expression.

_Ginny left today. I can't say that it was entirely unexpected, with her mother so protective of her only daughter; but it was rather sudden. Charlie came to breakfast, she packed her things, we said goodbye, and then they were gone. I suppose it's safer for her elsewhere, but I'll miss having her around._

_For once, I feel like I'm getting somewhere with Severus. We've been brewing almost every day for a few weeks, and not just Veritserum; variations on the Truth Serum, entirely new Potions, theories and prototypes that could revolutionise the field (or leave the house a smoking ruin). Needless to say, we don't tell anyone else of these inventions._

"I should hope not." He snorted. What they were doing was highly illegal, to say the least.

_I've decided- I'm going to ask him about official apprenticeship tomorrow. We may be in the middle of a war, but is that an excuse to hide behind? I would most certainly put Harry's cause first, but I need to consider my future as well._

"Too right." Snape asserted to the empty room.

_The only worry I have is in refusal- he's lived a solitary life for so long, would he even wish to disturb that? Who am I to suggest myself as a possible candidate? Yet he likes it when I show reluctant pride..._

_Wish me luck, Hyperion- and, if you have any tips on how I could approach him, they would be much appreciated._

Snape had to laugh at that. "I have only one piece of advice, Hermione... and I'll tell you now."

**

**

Hermione had finished her entry for the night, and stared at the ink on the parchment for a few minutes after that, lost in thought. She was really going to do it, then; it wasn't such a big step, as she was already his Potions assistant and pretty much an Apprentice in all but name.

Did she have the guts?

She was shutting the book when something caught her eye- something that almost made her drop it in shock.

He was replying! The Dictoquill script flew across the page, spelling out the response:

_Be honest, and tell him what you just told me. Good luck._

Her jaw dropped, and she ran her fingers over the letters with a feather light touch. She didn't even know that he could write back! Yet he had, and she was exceedingly glad that he had waited till this moment to tell her. It reminded her of what a big step she was making- and that she now had her guardian's consent.

She slept with a contended heart and peaceful mind, ready to face _him_ the next day.

**

**

"Good morning, Hermione." His standard greeting came to her through the thin veil of steam from his cauldron.

"Good morning, Severus." It didn't feel strange to call him that, anymore; it had definitely taken some getting used to in the beginning.

_Maybe you'll have to call him 'master' soon._

They continued where they had left off the day before, and they had worked for a few hours before the opportunity for a break came.

They both went upstairs to their meal, alone at the table as the Weasleys had left some time ago to get supplies.

"Severus, I have something to ask of you." She said, resolving to get on with the job.

He raised an eyebrow in what she recognised to be a questioning way. "Continue, by all means."

"I do realise that you have never taken an Apprentice, but I feel that I would perform admirably in that position. I do realise that now isn't perhaps the right time for such a commitment, but I felt it was important to ask anyway... I can't keep waiting for Harry to recruit me back into his band, I need to... _live_. And this is _my_ ambition, _my_ ultimate dream." She realised that she was beginning to ramble, so she concluded quickly. "In any case... would you consider me for an Apprentice Position?"

He hadn't reacted throughout her entire speech, which made her faintly nervous. His thumb ran along the handle of his mug, hypnotically back and forth, as he thought about her proposal. He looked up at her after a moment, and a slight smirk- _smile? _-was tugging at his lips.

"I would like nothing better, Hermione, than to accept you as my apprentice." He said finally, making her heart leap up in joy.

"Th-thankyou!" She stammered her thanks.

A genuine smile came fleetingly to his lips this time, and Hermione thought that the expression suited him well. "I look forward to working with you after your last school term- but until then, you will remain my assistant."

"Of course..."

They returned to their work, a new unspoken agreement hanging thick over the room.

**

**

Dumbledore visited the Headquarters later that afternoon, and Hermione told him the news with satisfaction.

"An apprenticeship?" Dumbledore asked her, the approval evident in his voice. "Congratulations! I have to admit, it had been my hope that you and Severus would get along. I have but _one_ concern, however... the agreement with Hyperion was for your school career. An apprentice must bring at least _some_ funds to the relationship."

Hermione bit her lip. "I've been saving some of my extra spending money, but I know it's not nearly enough to last me... I'll need a place to stay, somewhere near the-" She frowned. "Where does Severus live, anyway?"

"I haven't the faintest clue, Hermione. He's always kept his secrets well."

"What arrangements are traditional?" Hermione asked him.

"In many cases, the Apprentice pays the Master for the privilege... but Severus would not ask that of you, I am sure. Instead, you will most likely pay for your personal Potions ingredients, living allowance, that kind of thing. Many earn money on the side through selling simple Potions to Apothecaries."

Hermione began to see the immense problem that was facing her. She could only hope that Hyperion was willing to support her for a little longer. She felt guilty asking it of him, considering how much he had done for her already; but, like last time, there was nothing for it.

Before she could write to him, though, Severus called her to his study upstairs. She no longer felt out of place in this room, where they had often retired to discuss their theories and write notes on their works.

"Before you become worried, Hermione, you should know that Albus has spoken to me."

Hermione felt a surge of anger. How dare he reveal her situation to him, before she was prepared to? He never needed to know!

"He said some... baffling things about your upcoming apprenticeship, and insisted that you had something to tell me. So, go ahead." He leaned back in his chair in a familiar posture of relaxation as Hermione took her customary seat to the right on him.

She didn't know how to begin. "I have been worried about how this will work." She said finally, looking down into her lap and trying to collect her thoughts. "As an Order member, do you know much about the situation with my parents?"

He blinked once before shaking his head slowly. "Not much, no."

"To be brief, I cannot contact them- and have relied on a stranger's generosity to complete my last year at Hogwarts."

"You are concerned about your lack of funds." He said, simply and brutally. She merely nodded in response.

"I will never ask anything beyond your capacity to give." He said to her surprise. "You will require no additional funds besides the basics for living that you already receive separate from your Hogwarts fees."

She tried to reply, but he waved her away. "You will soon be privy to some information that I have not seen fit to disclose, for many reasons... can I trust you to not betray them lightly?"

Hermione was quick to assert her honesty. "I would never reveal anything you tell me in confidentiality."

"Very well..." He smirked, the sudden lightening of the conversation puzzling Hermione. "You are talking to one of the richest men in England, if not in Europe. The funds I would spend supporting you would be negligible. In addition, if you so wish, accommodation can be provided to you."

"I..." Hermione was truly speechless. Snape, rich? Prepared to give her what was essentially _charity_?

"Think upon it, Hermione." He said as she was digesting it. "There is no particular hurry."

She left the room in a sort of daze, flopping on her bed as soon as she reached her rooms. Could she handle any more surprises that day?

**

**

_You would never believe it- Severus said yes! I'm frankly ecstatic, which you can probably guess by my messy writing. It's all arranged- and, as my financier, you probably wish to know what role you will have in the proceedings._

_I will ask no more of you, my dear Hyperion. Severus has agreed to 'foot the bill', to use a vulgar Muggle expression. Everything has turned out so well, yet there are still so many unknowns; where am I to live? What will my apprenticeship entail? What kind of contact will I have with the outside, the Order, the war? I don't know, but for some reason, I don't quite care. I'm going to be where I want to be; with the man I admire, and the field I love the most._

"The man I admire..." Severus murmured, still finding it surprising that she was able to see any redeeming qualities in him at all. She hadn't given up on him, like so many colleagues had; and she had been, if he could say so, 'rewarded'.

He had to appreciate the irony of Hyperion handing over responsibility to Severus, since they were one and the same. His face darkened as he considered- would she want to know, in the end? When Hyperion ceased to be aloof and could quite possibly reveal himself?

He shook himself. He remembered the resolve he'd had at the beginning of the saga- to never reveal the true nature of Hyperion. The possible humiliation and distress that it would cause... it would be devastating. He was prepared to continue the lie in order to keep Hermione oblivious, and in that ignorance, close to him.

He wondered whether that was a slightly selfish resolution.


	8. Loathed Retreat

**A/N: G'Day! Now, we're getting into some action! Sorry about the late update, it's been a nightmare...**

**I've had several reviews about inconsistencies in weather/term times/ general calendar details. I can do nothing but apologise and attempt to explain; since my last fic, Transformations, was so dictated by the phases of the moon and the days of the week, I kind of let it all slide on this one. Besides, I haven't the faintest clue of English weather and school timetables. I'm not exactly a native.**

**Anyway, this chapter should have something for everyone... enjoy!**

**

**

He was awake in an instant when he felt the wards trip.

In a burst of reflexes born of necessity and practice, he grabbed his wand and was in a defensive position on the landing within seconds. A quick charm told him that the downstairs hall had been occupied, near the front door.

They had disabled the door alarm- but had missed the second, more subtle line of defence just inside.

Revising the emergency plan in his mind, he ran to the first occupied room- Molly and Arthur's. He woke them quickly, hissed the situation in their ears, and moved to Tonks' room, where she had been bunking since her own house was destroyed by Death Eaters. She almost took his eye out with her startled reaction, but was soon alerted and on the move.

The last room was Hermione's, just as he heard a shout from downstairs- and three distinct Floo exits. That meant the others had already left via the fireplaces... and that the men were now aware of that exit. There was only one other way out.

She was asleep, a look of utter peace on her face. It tore at him somewhere, but he managed to shake her gently to wake her up. She sat bolt upright, at least having the sense to remain silent when he put one hand over her mouth, his hand brushing against the curls of her hair. Her eyes flickered towards the door; he nodded once and let her get up, always on the lookout for the intruders.

She crept up beside him, her eyes showing fear but her jaw set in determination. Together, they glanced into the corridor- it was deserted. He turned to her, risking a low whisper.

"I'll Side-Along you to the safe-house... are you ready?"

She nodded. "Can't we do something?" She said brokenly. "Fight them off, protect the house?"

"If they know we're here, that means we've been betrayed- and that means even more may know about it. We can't take that risk; if the building is compromised, we leave."

He was glad that the lab would appear as a cellar to anyone but the specified Order members, with a strong Repellent Charm to avoid any suspicious Death Eaters poking around.

Realising that they should leave immediately, Snape checked once again that everything he needed was with him, held Hermione close to his side-

A resounding _bang_ of wand-work echoed through the halls, followed by a roaring sound...

_Fiendfyre._

"Now!" Snape barked, spinning even as he felt the heat creeping towards them. He firmly fixed the location in his mind- the last stronghold, the one that he had prayed they would never need to use. The wind roared around them as they Apparated; Snape was conscious of Hermione's strong and steady grip on his arm. She would not let go.

They arrived with a thud, a less-than-graceful landing, but acceptable considering the circumstances. They were immediately surrounded by a hustle and bustle, the noise of shouting and running feet around them.

Snape winced. To think that it had come to this...

**

**

Hermione looked around her, relaxing slightly as the familiar faces of Order members filled her vision. They were in a large, majestic marble hall, the slight tinge of sunrise in the horizon outside the grand windows staining the scene pink and orange. Many people were carting supplies back and forth, rushing around with parchment lists and boxes. It appeared as pandemonium, but it would hopefully create a more ordered arrangement.

"Disgraceful." She heard Severus mutter under his breath, and she looked at him in surprise.

"What was that?"

His head jerked around to look at her. He seemed a little lost for words. "Only that this was meant to be organised months ago." His eyes flickered to between them, where Hermione could see that she was still gripping his arm.

She blushed slightly as she untangled herself, feeling slightly cold on that side now that his warm presence was gone. "Where are we?"

"You are not meant to know, Hermione... all of these people arrived by special Portkey or to a Floo address that they didn't recognise and doesn't correlate to the actual location."

"You knew." Hermione said almost accusingly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I wouldn't spread that around, if I were you. Now, if you would excuse me... I believe the Weasley clan is near the exit." He bowed to her slightly and moved through the crowd, leaving her with a slack jaw and too many questions.

"Hermione!" The call came from Mrs. Weasley, and she moved to join them with a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay, Mrs. Weasley..."

"Oh, but they blocked the Floo!" She wailed, wiping a tear from her cheek; it was obvious that she'd been rather distressed. "To think that the horrid rules say we should leave friends behind in emergencies- Arthur _made_ us go!"

"It's fine, really." She protested, but the matronly woman had to continue apologising for a while. It was only after a parting hug that Hermione noticed Fred and George standing by, and she went over to greet them with a smile. "It's been a while... what mischief have you been creating, dare I ask?"

Their faces lit up with a familiar grin, and Hermione felt herself relaxing in their presence.

"Only patriotic mischief, we swear!"

"A bit of humorous espionage, really..."

"Keep that from mum, she still thinks we're jokers."

"Anyway... been keeping busy?"

Hermione considered that, wondering how much she could actually say. "You know me..." She said finally, "A workaholic, through and through."

**

**

She coughed as the dust swirled around her, but a quick cleaning spell later and the room was habitable- barely. How long had it been since anyone had lived there? Tens, hundreds of years? Hermione was one of the lucky ones; she got a room to herself, even if it was small and dimly lit. She looked around once more, appraising the space; it seemed to be shoved between two other rooms, as it was irregular and the window high above her seemed to be an afterthought. On her tiptoes, she moved over to it. The view took her breath away; a sloping green lawn, a deep blue lake sparking in the morning rays of sunlight... beautiful.

She yawned suddenly, realising that she hadn't slept in quite a while... yes, that was why Dumbledore had sent her to bed. She looked over at it, and her eyelids became heavy at the sight of it. She didn't even bother to take off her dirty robes before collapsing on top of the covers, asleep within moments.

**

**

No diary entry that night; not that Snape expected one, with all that was going on. He felt like tossing it aside, but thought better of it. Just because he was aggravated didn't mean he could take it out on her.

He glanced around the- _his_- room, the one place that he had never wanted to return to. He loathed the ostentatious furniture, hangings, and the marble and cold stone. It had never suited him, and he didn't think it ever would.

Had she made the connection yet?

Jupitus hooted at him from his perch besides the window, sensing his master's unease. Snape walked over and stroked the bird's feathers absently, wondering how much more he could take.

**

**

A quick meeting the next day confirmed their suspicions: Grimmauld Place had been compromised and several key Order locations ransacked simultaneously, leaving them with little choice but to remain in the Castle- wherever that was.

It had been brought up by several members that they should at least know _where_ they were, if not whose house they were in- but Dumbledore was surprisingly stern. The owner would like their anonymous nature preserved, and if anyone had a problem with that, they should approach Dumbledore. Many grumbled at that, but there was no alternative.

The absence of Shacklebolt was noted with concern, as no one had seen him for at least a day. Hermione silently hope that he wouldn't become yet another wizard 'missing in action'.

Hermione sat in her customary seat, near the back of the meeting; she didn't see herself as prominent in any sense of the word, especially now that the Chosen One wasn't there to voice his overzealous opinion and bring his friends into it. She was content to watch and listen, mostly; one thing she found especially interesting was what she affectionately called "Snape-spying"; she'd found that she could interpret most of his facial expressions, actions, and words and translate them into his distinctive language. His unique perspective on the enemy allowed him a position near the front of the meeting, an ideal spot for her to watch him in.

McGonagall had moved onto the next item. "Now, some distressing news... the Ministry is trying to find Lucius Malfoy, concerned that he has been killed or captured by the Death Eaters." Some sceptical chatter began, but she continued. "Of course, there are alternative things to consider- he's often cited as the Dark Lord's right hand man, and having him out of the public eye is worrying to say the least."

"Not really, Minerva." Snape cut through the acidic discussions around the room, having the instant attention of everyone. "Lucius would only drop his guise, his family, and his titles for one thing- assurance from the Dark Lord of something better. Since he has not, in fact, won this war, we can assume that option to be impossible. To put your mind at ease, I can say with confidence that Malfoy is no longer an issue."

"In what way?" One witch said cautiously. "Do you mean..."

Snape arched one eyebrow at the congregation, and Hermione knew that he was secretly enjoying the tension. "I _mean_ that Lucius Malfoy is dead."

"_Dead?_" Moody spat. "Impossible!"

"We at least need some evidence before this is settled, Severus." Minerva said at last. "We can't make plans without certainly."

"Has anyone seen him recently?" Snape asked sarcastically. "You want _evidence_? I was the last man to see him alive, and the first to see him dead. Is that sufficient?" He spat, bitterness returning as he steadfastly ignored the looks between Order members. "Knock on the door of Malfoy Manor to hear it from Draco Malfoy's mouth, or drag the bottom of the Channel. Either action will confirm his death."

Hermione winced. He was direct, if nothing else. The room was silent as the grave for a moment, before Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Let's continue... Minerva, if you would?"

She swallowed once, and then started on the remainder of the meeting. Hermione drifted out again, her eyes still on Snape. _The last man to see him alive, and the first to see him dead._ _Drag the bottom of the Channel._ It was plain to her that Severus had killed the senior Malfoy, but she found that she didn't mind at all.

At some point during the discussion, she saw him tense noticeably. She listened to what Moody was saying. "...who could be, in all probability, a Death Eater trying to get us all in one place to massacre us!"

He was talking about the owner of the castle! What a ridiculous statement...

She eyes went wide as the penny dropped. She jerked her head back over to stare at Severus, and instantly knew that it was true. It all made sense!

_This is _his _castle!_

That's how he knew where to Apparate to when no on else did... that's why he was so reluctant to discuss it earlier... and she already knew that he was rich.

Just not _this_ rich.

She looked around the hall once more, this time admiring the tapestries and craftsmanship of the soaring buttresses. It was his home... the Snape ancestral home, most likely.

He shifted in his seat before suddenly turning to survey the crowd- and looking directly into her stunned eyes.

She didn't look away, knowing that the blush rising on her cheeks would give her away in any case. His eyes met hers once- he nodded slightly, barely an inclination of the chin, and turned back to the proceedings.

In that moment, they had both understood.

It was their secret.

Had Hermione been told a year ago that she would share so much of her own life with Severus, and that he would give her some in return, she would have declared them insane. Yet there she was, and she didn't regret a single decision that had brought her to that point.

**

**

To Hermione's surprise, the next time she saw Snape was at her shift of dinner, with the populace on a rotation to avoid overcrowding. He'd never been to any of the communal meals, as far as she knew, so this marked a rare appearance.

To Hermione's secret joy, the only space was next to either her or the chatty, elderly witch a few tables over. His eyes flickered in that direction once, a slight frown appearing, and then he resumed his course for her table.

The Weasley twins and a few other members Hermione didn't recognise were sitting at the same one, and the two red-heads were more than happy to let _her_ take the fall and sit next to their menacing former Professor. They exchanged one partly sympathetic glance with her before the Potions master sat smoothly, his black-clad limbs brushing against Hermione as he filled up his plate.

"I trust you have been well." He murmured to her as way of greeting.

"Yes, thank you... a bit fatigued, but well overall." She replied honestly. He glanced at her, saw that she was telling the truth, and nodded in satisfaction.

They passed most of the meal in silence, their normally relaxed dynamic shattered by the presence of so many people.

He brushed against her once more as he left the table, his fingers lingering on her shoulder. "I hope we can find the time to brew again, once all the dust has settled. There are a few potions that I would like to try."

"Certainly." She agreed with a slight smile. "Whenever you see fit."

He left in his normal dramatic fashion, and Hermione was going to return to her meal when she heard a choked sound from beside her.

It was Fred, and to a lesser extent George, laughing into their hands and trying (unsuccessfully) to mask it as a cough. "Well?" Hermione said coolly, picking up her fork in nonchalance.

"What happened, Hermione? You were- _civil_! And he was... _friendly_!"

"Merlin forbid, Fred- mean old Snape, being friendly!" George snorted. "Never."

"Please! Must you be so thoughtless? He is, as surprised as you may be, _human_." She snapped, her forced calm shattered by their comments. "He's done more for this Order than you could ever imagine, and this is how you treat him?"

George blinked. "Blimey, Hermione, we were just..."

"Just nothing." She sighed, her anger dying down slightly. "I'm sorry, but I'm on a short fuse these days... and after Harry and Ron left, he essentially kept me from going mad by keeping me useful to the cause. So, if you don't mind, keep the insults to yourselves."

The matter was dropped; Hermione didn't hold it against them, but afterwards she felt sadness that no one else would know, or appreciate, him like she did.

**

**

_I feel so useless here. At least in Grimmauld Place helping Severus was a way to keep the feeling away... but now, he's distant. I find that I miss having him around, someone to share a comfortable silence with or fill it with intellectual discussions on the relative merits of oak roots. I keep hoping that things will settle, that we could find a way to regain that easy living... but the Castle remains a prison, to both of us. Bound by duty, I quietly go about my small business in a small way and basically live according to the whims of whatever Order member I happen to be serving. It's not too bad, in case you're wondering (or you're one of them); some of the research I've been asked to do is very interesting, as well as in finding out how the Order actually works. Dumbledore always finds something stimulating for me to do, for which I am grateful; we've been here for a few weeks now, most of the members coming and going. As far as I can tell, only a few people actually live here- me, Severus, and a few recent temporary refugees without a family or friend to stay with. Even the Weasleys and Dumbledore go home for the nights. I have to admit that I've been offered a place at the Weasleys if I so desire, but it'll feel empty there; with no Ron, and Ginny off with Charlie, it won't be the same... and I can't leave him alone. He loathes this place, I can tell, and if I can alleviate that for a minute then I'll never leave._

He blinked and looked over those last few words with disbelief. "Then I'll never leave..."

**

**

As time drew on, Hermione could safely make a few assumptions- firstly, the Order was in shambles. They didn't have a plan, they didn't have Harry Potter, and they didn't have a spy on the inside. Dumbledore was able to keep them together through loyalty, but until they had a goal, an air of despair was settling over the group. Secondly, Severus was working himself to an early grave. He was the first up in the morning, and she had never seen him retire to his room for more than a few hours at a time. And thirdly, Hogwarts was not going to be reopened for quite a while. She could see the pain in Dumbledore's eyes as he related the problems to her and the other members of student age, and wished that she could make it better. But no one could; well, maybe a certain messy-haired individual.

It couldn't be long now...

**

**

She had been setting up an extra room for a visitor when she heard a rustling at the door. She whipped around, wand at the ready- only to find Severus, looking slightly amused at her reaction.

"Glad to see you're on your guard." He said, half seriously. "Are you content with this work, or are you ready for something more challenging?"

She glanced back at the sheets she had been laying on the bed. "I think there's no contest there; any more of this, and I may just wither away from boredom. I'll finish this, and then meet you..." She left it hanging, unsure of their meeting place.

"In my laboratory. Past the kitchens, down the left flight of stairs, last door on the right." He directed curtly, inclining his head slightly in farewell as he vanished from the archway. Hermione could hear his steady footsteps recede as she finished up, glancing once more around the room. She wouldn't be sorry to leave the domesticity behind, that was for sure; she felt like a maid, and considering there were no House Elves around, she surmised that she was taking their place instead.

She quickly visited Molly Weasley to say that she was working on something else for a while, and left before she could be roped into any last minute chores. Severus would be waiting for her, and he didn't like being kept waiting.

She would usually get into her work clothes, but almost everything had been left at Grimmauld Place. The only things she had picked up on her exit was Hyperion's cloak to wear, his birthday gift, and her wand. Everything else was in the hands of the enemy now.

She followed Severus' directions, finding the dark wooden door easily enough. She knocked once before entering.

She was blown away by the room beyond. It was, by far, the biggest laboratory that she had ever seen, and the best appointed; she could see dozens of ingredients cupboards, at least fourteen different cauldrons in a neat row against the stone wall, numerous shiny benches and an advanced ventilation system.

She whistled softly in appreciation before grinning at Severus, who was already sitting beside a bubbling cauldron well into the room. He smirked back with a knowing glint in his eye. "I trust you find it more than adequate, Hermione. It has taken the best part of my life to assemble this space."

"It's brilliant." She said breathlessly, already itching to explore as she took her seat beside him.

"Curb your curiosity for the moment. We need to find an adequate substitute for the griffin claw, as we have none in these stores..."

Hermione got into the debate quickly, eventually hammering out a possible alternative with Severus. They added it with bated breath, and both relaxed in relief when the Potion behaved as it should. There was a moment of silence as they both watched it simmering.

"This is a magnificent Castle." Hermione said suddenly, unsure of why she was bringing the topic up.

"It is of no consequence." Severus replied bluntly. "I have never found it practical; in many cases, it has been a burden."

"How is it that no one knew? Not even Dumbledore, in the beginning..."

"No one is even slightly interested, Hermione, and that's the way I prefer it." His tone was harsh, but Hermione pushed onwards.

"What-"

"Why do you bother, Hermione?" He interrupted her suddenly, facing her from across the small space between them. "You remain behind when your friends go on their epic quest; you are willing to be down _here_ instead of in the thick of it..."

Hermione thought carefully before replying. "I enjoy it, for one thing. More than I had ever anticipated... and you can't do this alone."

He shook his head. "If this is out of some misplaced Gryffindor charity, I want nothing of it."

"It's not." She was quick to assert. "I... I want to be here. With you."

For a moment, she wondered with horror if she had gone too far. Severus had frozen, no cutting reply coming to his lips.

Hermione felt like she had stopped breathing, and she was suddenly conscious of her hands trembling slightly in her lap. When she glanced up at him again, his eyes were fully on her face.

"I'm exceedingly glad that it is so, Hermione... I couldn't have found-"

He was interrupted by a massive clanging sound, the bell calling for a general meeting. Hermione felt a flash of irrational anger at the damn thing, and she thought she saw a similarly frustrated expression on his face.

They remained where they were, even as the bell tolled again in the final call. Severus was the first to move, standing slowly with a rustle of his robes. "We should go." He said unnecessarily. He held out his arm, as a gentleman waiting for the lady.

Hermione nodded slowly, and took the proffered arm with slow deliberate movements. They were standing closer than was strictly necessary, and a thrill went up Hermione's spine at the contact.

Not another word was spoken as they walked out of the lab, up the stone stairs, and towards the hall. They let go of each other at the threshold, and Snape looked at her once more before entering. He looked as though he would say something, but he swept past her without giving voice to his thoughts.

Hermione blinked once as he went in, and then followed his lead, her head spinning and her thoughts confused. What had just happened?

What had she _wanted_ to happen?

**

**


	9. Horizon

**A/N: Okay, everyone, this is it- the Last Chapter! I had no idea it was coming, I've been so wrapped up in it all...**

**Thankyou to everyone that read, reviewed, added, and contributed to this story. Without you, it would have sat on my laptop and collected digital dust.**

**A sequel may be forthcoming; I have a few idea in my stressed little head... so keep an eye out!**

**Finally, to my most devoted reviewers and critics—Wyndnfyr, Mrscakeakajane, The Math Geek, Gryffens, Notwritten, Attyfan, Pstibbons, and the few that I've probably missed (apologies in advance). Thankyou for all your comments- I write for you guys!**

**

**

**CHAPTER 9: HORIZON**

**

**

Hermione was barely settled in her seat before it all happened.

Shacklebolt came running in first; Hermione had never seen him so flustered, his eyes wide open and his movements frantic. "Dumbledore!" He shouted above the din, waving away questions about his disappearance. They had all assumed him dead!

"Kingsley?" Dumbledore said in obvious astonishment. "What-"

"-they're attacking the Ministry, _right_ now!" He boomed, and the room went silent immediately.

Hermione was stunned; in broad daylight? With all the offices full of people?

"All fighters at the ready!" Moody barked suddenly, startling them. "Prepare to face the enemy!"

A positive whirlwind of activity as each person made the preparations was staggering; she was almost knocked over by the crush to get out the door. She could hear Dumbledore distantly shouting out more instructions.

"Apparation from the front hall in five minutes! Approved fighters only!" He boomed with his _Sonorous_ Charm. "Moody's Aurors to spearhead!"

He turned it off with a wave of his wand, continuing to shout anyway. "Severus! Send the required messages... St. Mungo's _must_ be notified!"

He ran towards a side door, seeing Hermione on the way. "Come with me!" He yelled tersely, pulling her through the ancient doorway with one strong hand on her arm. They reached what appeared to be a dead end; a solitary round room, almost a cupboard, barely a metre in diameter and seemingly with no roof. He tugged her into the small space as she watched him, bewildered.

He tapped the stones on the wall in a way similar to the entrance of Diagon Alley. "The Owlery!" He announced. "Fast!"

The floor shuddered, then the single paving stone shot up in a mimic of a Muggle elevator; she clung onto him as numerous floors flew past, the wind whipping at her hair and his robes as they ascended.

He explained the task to her as they went, shouting over the rushing wind. "There are messages lining the east wall- attach each one to an Owl, starting with the swiftest breeds. The St. Mungo's letter is on a Portkey- I will activate it as soon as we enter. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" She replied with conviction, just as the elevator stopped suddenly and threw them both out of the shaft. The Owlery was nearly as large as the one at Hogwarts, and it took Hermione a few seconds to reach where the message were lined up.

She moved swiftly, knowing that time was of the essence- she felt that the five minutes had passed, and that her friends were most likely in battle at that very moment. _How many would fall?_

She shoved that thought away and kept her mind on the job.

"Dammit." She heard Severus swear under his breath. Hermione attached another letter and looked up; the only birds left were the roosting pigeons, and there was still one more message. How would they contact anyone else?

It was with relief that she saw an owl shooting through the sky towards them, appearing as a blur of feathers as it came swooping through the large opening.

"_No_." She heard Severus whisper, to her surprise; wasn't it a good sign that they had enough owls to reach all their targets?

She expected it to find a perch; instead, it shot past her and onto Snape's arm.

She held the message in one hand, and turned to affix it to the bird-

Only to be stopped by the impossible scene in front of her.

_Jupitus?_

No.

_No._

It couldn't be...

All of her screamed against it, but she knew she couldn't defy the blatant logic.

There it was: the owl settled on Severus' arm as though it often perched there, and the unmistakable look of apprehension on Severus' face. It was caught in a breathless moment as she stared in shock; Jupitus, on the arm of his master, Hyperion.

Hyperion- the man she had told so much- _too much_- was, all along, the very same man she had talked about in her long and emotional letters. What had he thought of her? Could she ever face the _shame?_

Maybe she didn't have to.

She looked him one more time in the eyes; the ones she had so often contemplated, gotten lost in, dreamt about whenever she felt confused or alone.

"Hermione..." He began softly, but she didn't bother to listen. She threw the last message at his feet and rushed past him, tears already rising to her eyes as she ran down the long staircase.

She needed to keep her mind on the fight! No matter what she had just seen, what she had gone through, the survival of her friends was more important. She didn't even know what she was going into- were they winning? Was it over? Would she appear in the middle of crossfire?

In any scenario, she felt indifferent to her own safety. She was going, and nothing was going to stop her.

_Nothing._

"Hermione!"

His shout disrupted her concentration just as she was about to Apparate. She had one glimpse of his form running down the stairs as full speed, and his shockingly desperate face, before she strengthened her resolve and turned once.

"No-"

She was on the alert immediately, ducking behind the first piece of rubble she came across to assess the scene.

It was a battle field.

Marble had been torn up or melted in the heat of curses; bodies lay where they had fallen, some with obvious injuries and bloodstains. She saw with relief that the Order had secured most of the area around her, so she wasn't in hostile territory or no-man's-land. Without any further thought, she gritted her teeth and joined the melee.

**

**

Severus tried not to think about the way she clung to him as they shot upwards in the elevator, even though every instinct screamed at him to hold her closer. As soon as they were free, he ran over to the Portkey for St. Mungo's and selected the right default message to attach asking for aid. As soon as it had popped out of existence, he turned to help Hermione with her own task. To his dismay, they were running low on birds to send; he remembered vaguely sending a few away in the morning, carelessly not checking if they had enough...

"Dammit." His temper flared.

Wait... there was one more owl that he knew of.

And he knew when he was needed.

"No." _You stupid owl, you could ruin _everything_... she's not ready to know..._

_She wouldn't understand._

To his dismay, Jupitus had flown in, expecting a reward from his master for receiving the unspoken call.

He relished the last look in her eyes that was directed towards _him_, the man that had become one of her only fixtures in the war torn world. Soon, in a manner of seconds, the look would change. He kept that picture in his mind; standing there, defiant, her wild hair caressing her face and her hands steady as they held the message.

He knew it when it happened; a frozen stony look, then one of horror, and then one of resignation.

"Hermione..."He breathed, unsure of what he was going to say. Anything, _something_ to repair it...

_I did it for you. You have nothing to be ashamed of... I loved every entry, every minute with you..._

She had run past him, brushing him roughly in her flight, before anything could come to his lips.

He pounded after her as soon as he had recovered and sent Jupitus on his way, knowing that in all probability he would already be too late to stop her.

"Hermione!" He yelled her name once more, desperate, wishing that she would _listen_ and stay...

He knew it was a lost cause when he saw her muscles tense in preparation.

"No-" He began, but it was too late. She disappeared in a whirl, leaving nothing in the stone hall but Severus and an echoing silence that bore down upon him.

"-you'll be _killed_..." He finished, the very thought of it filling him with unspeakable horror. He needed to protect her. He was nothing without her... and he was only now beginning to realise it.

**

**

They had a major breakthrough when the Death Eaters were forced to fall back and they took most of the hall; Hermione fought alongside the others, keeping one eye out for the Dark Lord and one for... well, she didn't want to think about him...

She fell back behind a pillar, gasping for breath after a particularly nasty bout. Someone joined her a second later. "When did you get here?" Tonks asked in surprise as they shuffled into better protection. "You're not meant-"

"I'll explain later!" She replied, knowing that she didn't really have an explanation anyway. "What's the situation?"

"They're taken most of the second floor- the lifts have been disabled, but it's only a matter of time before they break through the roof and floor. The Ministry security put up a better fight than anyone expected- they're keeping them from getting higher, and we're coming in from below- if nothing untoward happens, we may have them pinned down!"

"Is You Know Who with them?"

Her face darkened. "I saw him... he's right in the middle of the Death Eaters, we can't get anywhere near him."

"What about Harry?"

"No sign." Her voice was monotone, but Hermione could tell that it was carefully so.

They returned to the fight once their breath had returned, Hermione resolving to no mercy.

**

**

Snape entered a world of flashing colours and loud crashes; he had chosen a side room for his entrance but it seemed that most of the dividing wall had been destroyed in the fighting. He found the best cover he could before engaging his first opponent- Yaxley. It was with the greatest satisfaction and ease that he took the odious man down with a Stunner.

He couldn't see the individual Order members through the dust and smoke... where _was_ she?

"Snape!" A voice came out of the melee, but not the one he was expecting.

"Potter?" He barked. "Where have _you-_"

"Erm, no time!" He said quickly; Snape could see that he'd been living it rough; he looked thin and unhealthy, with a scarred cheek to rival his forehead scar and badly trimmed hair (even worse than usual).

Ron came up beside him too, and Snape noticed that they were both wearing Death Eaters robes. "You could get killed in those!" He shouted at them.

"It's all part of the plan." Potter assured him. "Listen, we need to act now! I have the Arrow for Voldemort ready, but I need to get close enough."

_The Arrow? _He noted the ancient bow along Potter's back before shrugging it off with a great deal of fortitude. "I can get you there. This had better work, Potter..."

"Trust me."

That didn't exactly make him feel any better, but he ran low with the two boys until they reached the edge of where the Death Eater stronghold seemed to be. Snape picked up a Death Eater cloak from Yaxley's body on the way, shrugging into the familiar garment as he dodged spells. They were standing just before the last corridor- one that was filled with the special guard to the Dark Lord, and further down, the monster himself. Snape could feel his presence.

He already had the proper spell in mind- he just prayed that it would be enough. "This will give you one chance only, Potter. I doubt that I'll have anything else in me afterwards- make it quick, they won't stay down forever." He began to wave his wand in an intricate movement, the youngest Weasley teen watching curiously. "What..."

Snape didn't bother to reply; once he felt the immense build up of what essentially amounted to all his magical energy, he spoke the syllables clearly and with finality. "_Navitas __tentatio__!_"

A sphere of pure, crackling energy expanded from his wand, bursting out and hitting the Death Eater reserves in front of him. It rebounded down the corridor, sparing none from its sudden onslaught, until it dissipated and died far into the depths of the building. Severus saw dimly that both of his companions had already moved, and were rushing down the corridor after his spell. His vision shifted uncertainly, and he felt a fatigue that frightened him as his limbs folded in on him, his hand hanging limp as he dropped his wand. His last view was of the chandelier high above him as he slipped into unconsciousness.

**

**

Through some amazing tactics and outrageous displays of bravery, they advanced through most of the hall. Hermione herself had a Slicing Hex narrowly miss her, and her shoulder was bleeding profusely despite the pressure she had tried to apply.

One of the twins came skidding up to her, his pale face excited and streaked with dirt. "Hermione! They're here! Harry and Ron, I saw them!"

"What? Where?" She cried.

"Up ahead, in Death Eaters robes... just telling people not to Curse the enemy before they've seen their face, just in case it's them."

"I sure hope they know what they're doing." Hermione winced. "Do you think we could get up there?"

He grinned. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

They grabbed his twin and Lupin on the way through, who was slightly bewildered but willing to help them get to Harry and Ron. After all, he was Harry's godfather; he'd been worrying constantly for months.

All of a sudden, the resistance crumbled. All of the Death Eaters cried out in pain, and Hermione saw them clutching at their arms.

"It must be the Mark- it's burning!" She shouted at her companions. "Is that a good or a bad sign?"

None of them knew, so they continued pushing forward- some of the Death Eaters were fighting through the pain, but many were easy enough to Disarm and Stun in their distracted state. Despite this, it was still a struggle to reach the beginning of the twisting corridors of the Ministry proper.

Seeing movement down the hall, Hermione stepped back into an alcove. She tripped backwards over some rubble, landing hard on the ground. Suddenly, something flashed through her vision- something that she couldn't see from her standing perspective.

A pale hand, instantly recognisable, reaching out from the doorway...

"Wait!" She cried, as Lupin reached down to help her up. She crawled across the space, despite the calls from the others to stay back. She tried to stay low, keeping his hand in her sights as she went.

The corridor seemed deserted for the moment; not trusting the location, she stole a glance at Severus' form to see if they could move him. He was uncharacteristically still; obviously knocked out from something... but what if he was...

"He can't be..."

"Get _back_ here, Hermione!" Fred's hissed command snapped her back. She dragged Severus the best she could back behind the broken wall, and she heard someone gasp as they saw what she had found.

"Blimey, Snape... when did he get here?"

"He's not breathing very well..." She said, trying not to let panic take hold. He didn't seem to have any external injuries, but he still needed her help. Most likely he had exhausted himself with the battle... She made her decision.

"You guys go on without me- I _have_ to get him out of here." She insisted, roughly shoving them away. "_Go!_"

They reluctantly left her with him, and she cradled him above the marble floor with infinite care. "_Ennervate._" She breathed the spell softly, noting that his eyelids fluttered. He shifted slightly, or so she imagined.

"Come on, Severus, you can't do this..."

She suddenly remembered the pouch that he always had on him- antidotes, basic ingredients, and...

"...Energy Replenishing Potion." She gasped, moving quickly to find it. The bottles clinked against each other as she pulled it out, and she forced her hands to stay still for fear of breaking it.

There it was. She uncorked it, poised over his mouth to pour it in. "Just this one Potion, that's all I'm asking... you can do it, you stubborn man!"

She administered it, massaging his throat until he swallowed. Time ticked on, and she feared that she may have been too late...

He coughed once, and her heart soared to her even that small sign of life. "Severus? I'm here..."

His eyes flew open, and he seemed completely alert for a moment before his eyes shut against the bright light. "...you left." He said hoarsely.

"Yes. I'm _not_ leaving you again." Even in the sounds of the battle, Hermione swore that she could hear her own heart thumping.

The most frightening sound that Hermione had ever heard in her life screeched down the building: a sound of infinite agony, of tearing spirit and thwarted evil. She felt Severus flinch in her arms.

"The... Mark..." He whispered slowly, his left arm twitching. "Look..."

She carefully pulled up his sleeve- and gasped when she saw that the tattoo had become a mere watermark on his skin.

"It's... gone." She said, not daring to believe it. "He's gone!"

He sighed, closing his eyes once again. She grasped his hand with hers, caressing its toughened skin with her blood covered fingers.

"Then... it is over."

The approach of footsteps made Hermione jerk her head up, but she relaxed when she only saw Dumbledore, grey with exhaustion but alight with triumph. Behind him, she drank in the sight of Harry and Ron, looking worse for wear but very much alive. They were all looking at the pair of them, but Hermione didn't care. Let them see how much she cared for him- she was not ashamed.

The war was over, but her life had not yet begun.

**

**

The clean-up would be huge, but Hermione made sure that Harry and Ron were not a part of it. They had been through much, as far as she could gather; on the way to their rooms, Harry admitted in low tones that the attack on Grimmauld Place had been his fault, that Bellatrix had tortured him for information using Veritserum and Cruciatus before attempting to turn him over to Voldemort. Hermione was quick to assure him that he wasn't to blame for what had happened, and it was admirable that he'd managed to get out of there alive. The search for the Arrow, something which Hermione was completely ignorant of, had begun with a careless comment from Voldemort when Harry was telepathically linked to him and was ended with the help of Shaklebolt and many others along the way. Hermione wanted to hear the whole story, but they naturally wanted to rest their exhausted bodies and minds before their inevitable grilling from Dumbledore.

There were no celebrations on the battlefield or within Order circles for a few days after the dramatic climax. Too many had given themselves as the ultimate sacrifice, given in the hope that Harry would be able to get through to Voldemort and do what he had always been destined to do.

Severus Snape had very nearly been one of them.

Hermione had saved his life, a fact that she shrugged off, yet one that many found surprisingly commendable. She blankly refused any mention of an Order of Merlin (as many in the battle were to receive) on the grounds that saving Severus' life was not an extraordinary act- merely a necessary one. Why it was so personally crucial, Hermione didn't say- but she knew, in her heart, that she couldn't have lived with herself had the end result been different.

A few days after the final battle, Hermione faced him for the first time. They both were careful not to mention _it_- it was the elephant in the room, and Hermione didn't want to face it before Severus was recovered.

Eventually, that day came.

"Do you forgive me, Hermione?" He asked her, staring out the window and into the grounds with a grey look on his face. He was one of the few allowed to stay out of the temporary hospital ward set up downstairs- probably because he was the most troublesome and outspoken patient. "I lived a double identity, and you entrusted so much in me, in Hyperion... can you truly forgive such a grave betrayal of trust?"

She was sitting beside him on his double bed, and she put down the book she had been discussing with him. She knew that the conversation would come, and she had prepared for it. "I think that, initially, I was horrified; then I realised... I wouldn't want to say any of the things I said to Hyperion to anyone else in the world but _you_."

He gave her a look that said '_Me? Why me?'_

She smiled, and he basked in the light that came from it. "You, Severus- because..."

Lost for words, she expressed her feelings in the only way she saw as fitting. Before he could respond, she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips.

There was an instant of fear and uncertainly before his hand slowly came up to caress her face, then she felt a sense of fulfilment and of how _right_ it was. Becoming lost in the kiss, Hermione started to feel dizzy for lack of air.

They broke apart, and Hermione laid her head in the crook of his neck. She breathed in his scent, revelling in their contact. He stroked her hair with one delicate hand, and she felt at peace.

"You have no idea how long I've waited..." Severus said with a slight, and altogether surprising, chuckle. "Hermione, how was I so blind?"

She smiled. "I think we both were, in our own ways; but now..."

"Now... we have each other."

She snuggled in closer. "I think you always will."

**

**

_Hyperion,_

_One last entry, if you please. It seems silly to be writing this to you, while you sleep so peacefully next to me; I'm not even sure if you'll ever read your partner journal again, now that you can ask me to reveal my thoughts to you. I just add one thing that I wanted to say- to Hyperion, before he and Severus become one and the same._

Hermione glanced over at the man on her mind, still under the Dreamless Sleep that Pomfrey had prescribed until he had all his energy back. She smiled at the thought of him waking up to find her there, still watching over him, when most others were downstairs celebrating. He would probably insist she leave and have fun, but she was right where she wanted to be. It took her a while to write the last few paragraphs, but she managed it in the end.

_There was a point in my life that I thought the Wizarding world could bring me nothing but pain and suffering. That the Death Eaters came alongside the Aurors, like how the dragons came alongside the unicorns. But now I know that's not entirely true; you _can_ have one without the other. Happiness without sadness is a wonderful yet terrifying prospect, one that I wish to experience._

_You gave me that chance. Even when you were only a Professor showing compassion for your student, regardless of how much money you gave me, you offered the kind of support and care that I so sorely needed. You may say, 'what did I do? Besides a winter cloak and a birthday present?' Rightly so, but it was your _presence_ that really inspired me, the existence of something (someone) truly good and willing to help a little girl like me._

_Now, on to the complicated material- my feelings. I'm certain that you have some measure of it, but not nearly enough. You have seen the surface of a lake, now we have to explore the depths. I wasn't ever sure of these feelings myself; it wasn't something that could be looked up in an index of some dusty old textbook, or be taught to me by someone more intelligent than myself. It was something I had to discover for myself, a search that took altogether too long. Think of all the time we had... at any rate, it's out now. I, Hermione Granger, do hereby acknowledge to my deepest confidant and friend, Hyperion, that I love Severus Snape._

_(Ignore the inkblot. I was so eager to get that statement out that I upset my inkwell.)_

_In conclusion, here's to a future shared, a lifetime to live, and a hope reborn._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_


End file.
